Sloppy Babies: The Babysitters
by where'smynaya
Summary: "If a Babysitter gives you a matchbook, it's a formal invitation. You have to go." Unholy Trinity/Brittana Inspired by Burlesque & Coyote Ugly
1. Chapter 1 Bad Day

CHAPTER 1

"Cut the music!"

The director called, waving his hand at the air above him like he was swatting at a fly or something. I was in mid Pirouette when the classical music surrounding me stopped abruptly and the director rose to his feet. My heels met the wooden floor of the stage again as I tried to calm my breathing, my nerves still rattling my sore limbs.

_This is it, this is the moment.._

I swallowed back the lump forming in my throat and flashed him an award winning smile, "So when do I start?"

He chuckled darkly as he looked to the side at his partner and muttered something that was just out of ear shot before glancing back up at me, "I'm afraid you're not exactly what we're looking for. Thank you for coming."

My eyes went wide at his response then even wider as he turned his back to me, "What do you mean I'm not what you're looking for?" I shouted causing him to whip around, "This is my _third_ time being called back; if I wasn't what you were looking for don't you think you should've told me that the first or second audition?" I didn't usually let things like auditions get under my skin. There's always that chance that you won't get it no matter how hard you try, no matter how passionate you are, sometimes it doesn't work out.

_This _though? This was like starving for days, weeks even, and having someone dangle a nice, juicy steak right above your nose so close that you can smell each and every herb rubbed into its flesh. It's cooked perfectly to your liking and if you weren't starving then, you're definitely starving now. You're jumping through hoops and doing tricks because you're made to believe that that steak is _so _yours: it's already got your name on it, your knife is all nice and sharp, and you've even set the table for yourself, lit candle and everything!

But then some smug douchebag director with the phoniest of toupees' and the ugliest of knit turtle neck sweaters snatches your steak away and says something dumb like, "_Oh, were you hungry?_"

Dancers are _always _hungry.

It wasn't like I had never been picked or anything because it has totally happened many times before, but to have missed out on other great opportunities because I thought this was my big break was what made rejection sting a little more.

"Look, Bridgette-"He began with a tired sigh paired with an exaggerated eye roll.

"Brittany," I corrected him, "My name is Brittany."

"Whatever," He shrugged without a care in the world, "You're a talented girl, your moves were clean and you have amazing posture, but there is nothing special about you. You have nothing different to offer, you're useless to me, and we're looking for something eye catching."

His words cut a little deeper than I wanted them to, but I kept on a brave face and willed the tears from falling, "Eye catching?" I breathed out the words, "I can do whatever you want me to. I can dance circles around those girls and you know it! Just tell me what you want to see. I can do anything they can, better even! I didn't come all the way to New York, blow off other opportunities, just to have you-"

"You think we haven't heard the story before?" He snorted, his partner chuckling next to him. "You're from a small town. You came to New York to make it big. You're living in a shitty apartment and you need the money to pay rent. It's tired and just by you trying to go into your whole life story like that shows how typical you are. I come across one of you every single day."

I chewed on my bottom lip as he spoke; too choked up to even come up with a good argument as to why I'm perfect for this position. His words were sinking in faster than I could shrug them off and soon I actually kind of believed him. _Nothing special. Nothing different. Useless. Eye catching. _My brave face was starting to crack as I remained standing there and it was only a matter of time before I was stuck on the stage bawling like some child.

"Okay," I muttered with a nod and walked off the stage to the changing room, not able to bear one more minute under the hot lights and the director's criticism. I managed to wiggle back into my jeans and hoodie without shedding a single tear before stuffing the rest of my things into my duffle bag and rushed out of the building.

XXXX

On the walk home I kept replaying the director's words in my head. It was like he knew exactly who I was; he didn't even have to read my pages, just glanced at the cover and formed his opinion so easily. He was right though: I _did _come from a small town, in Arizona to be exact, I _do _live in a shitty apartment with my boyfriend and right now he and my Dad are the ones paying the rent since I couldn't get a dancing gig, and I _did _move to New York to make it big. I kicked at the concrete as I realized how predictable I came off to the director then shook my head. Maybe I _was_ as ordinary as they come.

Dad always said to choose words wisely because words can either heal the heart or poison the mind. With that, I've always been careful with what I said because why poison when you can heal? Clearly the director had other things in mind. I've always been an optimistic person, in high school they used to call me Sunny because I was always so happy and bright, but even the Sun has days when the rain clouds block its rays. I guess today was one of them.

At least my boyfriend will know what to do; Sam always sort of has a good idea and right now I just need someone to shake me from my gloomy thoughts and tell me everything will be fine.

After climbing the two flights of stairs, I dug the keys out of my dance bag and tired unlocking the door. Our apartment wasn't too _shitty_ like the director had called it; I found it rather cute actually! It was a perfect size for just two people, it was nice and cozy.

"Hey babe, I'm home!" I called as I laid my bag on the kitchen counter and staggered my way into the kitchen, tripping on a pair of Sam's jeans or flannel shirt as I went. I rolled my eyes as I regained my balance, wanting to get a little frustrated at his messiness but choosing not to because I've already had a rough day, I don't need an argument with my boyfriend looming over me too. It wasn't until I poured myself a glass of iced tea that I realized I hadn't seen his goofy face greet me yet.

We hadn't really been together for that long, just a little over eight months, before we decided to leave Arizona and head out to New York but we both wanted to the same thing: get out of our small town and experience new things. We happily packed our bags and took the next flight out to the big city and have been trying to settle in for the pass couple months. Sam fell into a routine faster than I did though as he quickly found a job that paid enough for a little over half the rent. I on the other hand had a tougher time, but I totally believe the saying good things don't come easy so I took it upon myself to audition for everything I could.

I shrugged casually at not getting a response after calling Sam's name again; he's probably taking a nap, working doubles are rough and I had no problem with it since he was the only one with a normal job while I was still on the hunt for a dancing gig. I was more than okay with being the girlfriend that gave massages and attempted to make dinner because he was always so sweet and he worked so hard at keeping this place for us.

Suddenly a nap sounded pretty nice and seeing as it was getting slightly cloudy outside on my walk home, it was perfect cuddle weather! With the kind of day I had, cuddling with my adorkable boyfriend sounded like the perfect cure.

After setting my empty glass into the sink, I headed toward our bedroom, stumbling over yet another pair of pants. I made a mental note to bring up Sam's habit of leaving clothes everywhere as I grew closer to the cracked door. Someone could totally trip and sprain an ankle or something, but I'd wait to bring all that up until after the nap. It wasn't until my palm was pressed against the wood that I heard the softest of moans come from the other side of the door.

Hoping that maybe my mind was playing tricks or that it was just Sam watching porn, which I've only walked in on him doing once, I took a step away and looked down. As I stepped back, I realized that the second pair of pants I tripped over just seconds ago was actually women's and _definitely_ not mine.

My chest tightened even more as my heart rate sped and I looked back up at the crack in the door. After that, my body sort of went on auto pilot.

I roughly pushed the door open, bracing myself for the image about to be burned into my memory, and just stood there shocked.

"Brittany!" Sam yelped and fell awkwardly off the girl beneath him, the sheets tangling around his bare body as he rolled to the floor and quickly jumped to his feet, "Uhh..it's not what you think!"

My jaw fell a little as my brows rose to my hairline. I thought people only said that in movies, _it's not what you think_, what else am I supposed to thing when my boyfriend is wrapped in our bed sheets, naked, with some other girl? I couldn't believe what I was seeing and really I didn't even feel a thing. I was numb. I was heartbroken. I was completely done.

"Baby.." Sam pleaded, taking hesitant steps towards me, breaking me from my daze.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."I managed to choke out, my insides churning and begging to crawl out of my mouth. I took one look at the familiar girl staring wide eyed back at me, her hands clutching the rest of the sheets to her naked chest for dear life, and shook my head, "Our neighbor? Really?"

"I-I just-"

My body tingled with rage and hurt and my eyes blurred with all the built up tears of the day, "How could you?" I sucked in my lips and spun away before my knees could buckle beneath me and I collapse to the floor.

"Britt, wait! Brittany! Please!"

Sam called for me but I was already grabbing my bag and slamming the front door behind me. I ran down the stairs, two steps at a time, and hoped that I didn't fall on my face as I went. Not like life hadn't already kicked me down and rubbed my face in the mud anyway, I just didn't want to add to it all.

I didn't remember how long I ran for, but by the time I finally stopped, it was already night. Amazingly enough, it ended up not raining so maybe there actually was someone up there looking out for me. At the first sight of a slightly less busy sidewalk, I let myself slump down against some hole in the wall diner, the bricks scratching my back roughly as I slid down. I tucked my knees into my chest and finally just let it all out.

How could one day be so damn bad? How could the whole world seem to crumble in a matter of hours? What could I have possibly done in a past life to deserve this? I'm a good person, I always do right by people, I always tip well, I'm a nice person; I don't understand!

I didn't know how long I sat curled up on the ground crying like that, but when I felt someone nudging at my foot, I picked my head up and was met with a pair of hazel eyes staring questioningly down at me.

"Hey-uhm-my friend owns this place and he hates when the homeless try to camp out here; bad for business." Her voice was so soft and sultry that she could probably insult me and I wouldn't even notice. Her perfectly sculpted brow quirked as she looked down at me in this analytical way before she spoke again, "But you're way too clean looking.." I just sniffled and rubbed at my nose with my hoodie sleeve.

"I haven't showered since last night.." I mumbled sadly but she just smiled angelically and tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear before folding her arms.

"So you _are _a homeless person?" She challenged, the corner of her lips pinched to the side like she was trying not to laugh.

"N-no..well, maybe? I don't know, I don't really want to live with my boyfriend right now so.." I trailed off as I felt the tears starting to brim again at the mention of what had happened earlier. I dropped my head back on my arms and let out another body shuddering sob.

"Hey, I know what you mean," She sighed apologetically causing me to peek up at her, "Stuff happens.." She shrugged then held out her hand and smiled, "Here, it's really dark out and I don't think you should be sitting out here alone. Come inside, we can talk about it if you want, dinner's on me."

I looked at her extended hand then up at her skeptically, "I haven't eaten anything off another woman since college.." Her face contorted in an unreadable expression and I actually thought I might've broken her by how she seemed to go from friendly to confused to laughing.

"Come on," She giggled breathlessly and wiggled her hand out to me again, "Rory makes the best burgers on this side of town and you'll learn to ignore the accent." I furrowed my brows at whoever Rory was, maybe the owner? "I'll even tell him to serve it up on a plate if that makes you feel better?"

She seemed genuine enough, but I've been fooled before. Then again, I'm pretty sure I'm already at the lowest of lows; I doubt anything she could possibly have up her sleeve could do any worse.

"Well, I _am_ a tiny bit hungry.." I mumbled and finally reached up to take her hand. She helped me to my feet and I was a little surprised at how sore my legs actually were from running so much earlier.

She smiled and led me toward the entrance of the diner, "I'm Quinn by the way."

"Brittany." I replied politely and returned her friendly smile as we both entered the brightly lit restaurant.

"Alright Brittany, have a seat at the counter and I'll let Rory know you're with me." Quinn instructed and nodded to the red and white leather bar stools lining the high counter top as she walked toward the younger guy working the register. I watched as the two talked; Quinn had this kind of charm about her, like the slight flutter of her eyelashes and the way she leaned against the counter could make anyone do anything she wanted. It was no secret she was pretty, I mean like _really really _pretty, like she could possibly have the face of an angle or something she was that perfect looking. Especially now that we were in the light and I could see all her facial features and how her milky skin seemed to glow under the white lights. Quinn seemed like one of those girls that constantly have people tripping over themselves to get her attention.

Kind of like the poor guy behind the register..

I wasn't necessarily attracted to her, she's very pretty and all but she isn't really my type. It was endearing to watch her be so charismatic though and I quickly found myself wishing that I had the same effect on people.

_She's something different, she has something new to offer; I bet she doesn't have a problem with directors not wanting to hire her. _

I was waved out of my thoughts when I registered her calling my name.

"What's that?" I asked from my end of the counter.

"What do you want to drink?" She repeated and held up a clear, red-tinted, plastic cup in her hand.

"Can I have Dr. Pepper?" I asked after a shrug; I need a little caffeine. She gave a single nod in response then turned back to the cashier and pointed the cup at him to take. He took the cup with this love struck grin and spun around to the ice bin while Quinn walked, well more like floated, my way as she slipped out of her jacket and sat down next to me.

"So Brittany, how long have you lived in the big city?" She asked as she settled her chin in her hand and tilted her head to me.

"A couple months now.."

"Yeah, I thought so." Quinn nodded. I kind of wanted to slump in defeat because of how easily people can read me, like seriously, am I that transparent? Just as I was about to ask how she knew, the cashier she was previously chatting with walked over with our drinks.

"Dr. Pepper," He said with a heavy Irish accent and set the cup down in front of me then set down Quinn's in front of her, "And sweet tea for a sweet lady." I giggled at his attempt at being flirty then at Quinn's scrunched up nose.

"When are you going to give that line a rest?" She teased, shaking her head as she slid the cup closer to her and took a sip, "Mm, just like home."

"Yeah, we kind of took your advice." He replied shyly.

"Good. Oh, Brittany, this is my _incredibly charming_ friend, Rory. His family owns the place." Quinn smirked as she nodded to the Irish, "Rory, this is Brittany who is _not _a homeless person."

"Hi." I greeted meekly, my cheeks flushing at her description for me. Rory just chuckled and returned the greeting before nodding to the kitchen and muttering something about starting our burgers and fries. We fell into a silence as we both sipped slowly at our drinks until my curiosity got the better of me.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked and faced her fully. My tone was harsher than expected, but I was over being taken advantage of, "You know I'm new to the city, if you're going to rob me you're out of luck, I'm broke. So what is it?"

She smiled again, almost like she was amused, as she turned to face me fully too, "Why should I go out of my way to be mean to you?" I instantly thought of what my Dad always said about being kind to people and I felt my shoulders ease. "You look like you've had a rough day, no one sits on the dirty ground in the middle of the night crying because their life is going just the way they like it. You seem like a good person too and honestly I felt a little bad for you." I chewed on my bottom lip and turned away to swirl my straw around in my cup; she _pitied _me, of course. "In a way, you kind of remind me of myself a few years back. We've all been new that new kid on the block before so I know how you feel, it can get tough. It's hard to fit into a place where everyone moves so much faster than you, you know? You just want find your place, somewhere you belong." She trailed off, "Hell, when I first moved here I definitely stuck out like a sore thumb! I was naïve and people were constantly giving me strange looks whenever I spoke, I had an accent back then, but I learned to adapt. You can too." I looked back over to her as she spoke, but this time she was looking down at her hands, her fingers pinching at the threads of her sundress, like she was going into deep thought. I made a mental note to ask her where she was from, I guess somewhere sunny like Florida or something. But as if she sensed me staring, she lifted her head and stilled her fingers, "Also, I don't think muggers would offer to treat you to dinner beforehand." I felt myself smiling as she teased me then spun around to face her drink like she was signaling that was the end of that conversation.

"Thank you." I replied, "That's really nice of you."

She just shrugged casually as she took a break from sipping, "Us girls have to look out for one another."

Shortly after, Rory came back around with our plates stacked with burgers and fries. I was kind of surprised at how someone so dainty looking as Quinn could really dig in! For some reason, I had this idea that she was going to eat her burger with a knife and fork. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I took my first bite of one of the best burgers I'd ever had. I was about half way through when I started to slow down and really enjoy the meal.

"You're _so _right." I smirked as I picked up another fry, "This is really good."

"Told ya! I'm pretty sure it's the fries that make it, you know the Irish love their potatoes. They probably had these flown in illegally or something." She winked and took another bite of her burger then pushed her plate away like she couldn't eat anymore, "So about this boyfriend.."

I had _almost _forgotten my reasoning for being on this side of town and not cuddled up on the couch eating take out and watching tv with Sam. I picked at my fries as I let out a deep sigh, it's better to talk about things rather than bottle them up, "I walked in on him with another girl-"

"Oh no."

"In _our _bed."

"Really?"

"With the neighbor."

"Are you serious?" She gasped, "What a jerk!"

I just nodded, "Did I mention the girl's name is Kitty?" She shook her head in disbelief, "I knew I should've suspected something when she kept making all those cat puns and purring at him. I mean, really? Who on Earth names their kid Kitty? It's weird and makes me wonder if she has a brother named Doggy or something." I watched as Quinn tried to stifle her laughter as I continued to rant, "I don't understand what went wrong with us; I swore we were fine this morning. We rarely ever argued, it's so..it's so surprising. I never pegged him as _that _kind of person. I don't even know where to go from here; I don't even know what to say to him when I go back. I'll have to go back sooner or later. I don't know where to go; he pays for most of the rent while my Dad helps with the other until I find a job. I'm just.." I trailed off as I felt the tears brimming again.

"I'm so sorry about that, Brittany." She replied apologetically and rubbed her hand at my back comfortingly, "No one deserves that kind of treatment."

"That's not even half of it.." I sighed through a watery smile, "I walked in on him _after _I had just got turned down from one of the biggest opportunities since I moved here. I focused so much on just that one that I missed out on others. I don't know why I did that, deep down I knew better than to rely on just one thing." I shook my head in frustration and looked down at my lap, "I knew so much better."

"Well you know, Brittany, you're in The City of Dreams." Quinn answered softly, "And one thing you'll learn about living here; big opportunities are everywhere if you want it bad enough."

"You think so?" I asked, peeking up at her to see shinning hazel eyes staring down at me.

"Definitely." She nodded certainly and withdrew her hand from my back. She looked as if she was going to say something else when Rory called out to her.

"Phone for you!" He waved an old school, corded phone in his hand and pointed to it for emphasis.

"Who is it?" She asked like she was annoyed he was interrupting.

"Who do you think?"

"Tell them I'm not here!"

"Quinn, she can hear you.." Rory deadpanned, "Please, take the call. She's threatening to have Santana come get you personally. I don't want that, last time she almost broke a window!"

"Key word: _almost_."

"Quinn, come on.."

"Fine!" She huffed as she hopped off her stool and started making her way towards him, her demeanor slightly less angelic.

"Hey! Don't look at me like that, I'm just the messenger." He laughed as she snatched the phone from his hand and brought it to her ear. I watched as she slumped against the counter tiredly and listened to whatever the person on the other line was saying. Rory chuckled at the sight and slung a dish towel over his shoulder and walked towards me.

"Finished?" He asked and nodded to my plate.

"Yes, thank you." I answered. He smiled politely and started to stack our dirty dishes while I remained watching Quinn.

"You'd think they'd learn to try her cell first." He joked causing me to look to him with a quirked brow, "Then again, I'm sure they know her well enough to know she turns it off after."

"What do you mean?" I asked confused.

"Her work, I bet you they're trying to call her in on her night off." Rory shrugged as he took the plates and set them at the back counter, "I wouldn't be surprised if one of them came in looking for her, it's happened before."

I turned back to watch Quinn, instantly curious as to what she does for a living. Maybe a lawyer or journalist? Or maybe something glamorous like a fashion designer from how stylish she dresses? But working this late? That crosses out most guesses. Maybe she's a cop! They work super late and have random hours..

"What does she do?" I asked skeptically.

"She's a Babysitter." He answered simply. I looked back at him as he continued to moon over the girl still on the phone. Well, I certainly didn't expect _that. _It was weird, I couldn't really picture Quinn dealing with messy babies and changing diapers. She was way to, I don't know, pretty for all that. Not saying that she couldn't get her hands dirty or anything, but she seemed so much better than babysitting.

As if on cue, Quinn's voice rose to the point where I could hear her from where I sat.

"Come on, Sue, this is my day off!"

"Yup, they're trying to call her in." Rory sighed just as Quinn hung up the phone and stalked back over to us, "Duty calls?"

"Yeah, it was a nice day off while it lasted," Quinn shrugged as she slid back into her jacket then as if she almost forgot I was there she looked to me, "It was nice talking to you, sorry I have to leave so soon."

"That's okay, thanks for dinner." I smiled as she adjusted her jacket sleeves.

"You're welcome. Here," She pulled out a matchbook from her pocket and reached over to steal Rory's pen from his shirt pocket then started to scribble something down, "This is my number. If you need a friend or anything, give me a call." She clicked the pen and handed me the matches with a smile before sticking the pen back in Rory's pocket, "See you around!"

"Hey, wait!" I called just as she reached for the door.

"Yes?"

"Where are you from?" I asked curiously, "Like where did you live before New York?"

She smiled sweetly and in her best Southern drawl she answered, "Savannah, Georgia."

_Huh, I guess that explains the sweet tea comment from earlier and she does kind of have this sweet southern girl vibe too.._

She waved one last time and shut the door behind her.

I stared after her, amazed at how she seemed to leave the both of us speechless by her grace. She seemed like a nice person and I wasn't used to someone being so friendly like that. I silently hoped that she would turn out to be a really good friend to me. Rory let out a lovesick sigh as he lifted a hand and covered his shirt pocket while a dopy smile filled his face.

"She is an angle." He whispered lovingly, drawing me out of my thoughts, "What'd she give you?"

Looking down, I flipped over the set of matches to see a logo of a baby bottle that looked to either be filled with pee or beer and the words _Sloppy Babies _printed in deep red above it.

"Ah, those are rare." He said nodding to the matchbook, "If a Babysitter gives you a matchbook, it's a formal invitation. You have to go."

"I don't _have _to go.." I mumbled as I stared down at the picture, "What kind of daycare gives out matchbooks to advertise anyway?"

"A daycare?" He laughed and shook his head, "No, definitely not a daycare." The way he disregarded my guess had me wondering what exactly Quinn did for a living, because obviously we didn't have the same definition of a babysitter. "It's this really awesome place; beautiful girls, great music, lots of alcohol.."

"So she's a stri-.."

"A Babysitter, the best in my opinion." He said proudly then leaned on the counter, "How long have you been living here?"

"A couple months?"

"And you've _never _heard of Sloppy Babies?"

"No..not really."

"Well, you are missing out!" He answered, "Go there tomorrow night, take that with you too and show the bouncer. Free entry!" I nodded as I stared down at the matches.

XXXX

Shortly after Quinn left, I decided it was time to head back to reality and go home. As much as I didn't want to see Sam, I really had nowhere else to go. Surprisingly, with Quinn's words replaying in the back of my mind, I found the walk home slightly easier. By the time I got back, it was nearly midnight and the apartment was pitch black aside from the bathroom light being on.

_Of course_, Sam always leaves the light on and his clothes everywhere and-

"Britt?" His voice called from the shadows as I kicked off my shoes and set down my bag on the counter. He moved slowly from the darkness, the light from the bathroom revealing only half of his body, "I've been trying to call you for hours." I let out a tired sigh and walked past him to the bedroom so I could changed into some pajamas before grabbing my pillow then choosing to leave it because Kitty probably had her head all over it, "Britt, please talk to me."

"I have nothing to say to you, Sam." I answered sternly and walked back out to the living room. As I walked pass him again, he reached for my arm.

"Brittany, I'm sorry!" He pleaded and tried reaching for my other arm, "Please, let's talk about this."

Roughly shrugging out of his grip, I pushed away from him, "Don't touch me. We're done-"

"Brittany.."

"We're going to live together until I find my own place; my dad will still put up my half until I find a job too-"

"Britt.."

"But that's it, Sam. What you did-what I saw, I just can't believe you!" I started to feel tears forming again and I actually got frustrated with myself for crying so much in one day. "You hurt me, Sam, you hurt me really bad. I'm a forgiving person and all, but a couple sorry's isn't going to fix this."

"Britt, give me another chance..I-I love you."

"No, you don't." I answered firmly and spun around to face him, "I just want to go to sleep, okay?" He looked to the floor sadly and nodded before turning away back to the bedroom. My heart ached as I set up my sleeping arrangements on the couch and braced myself for the worse sleeps ever. I felt so tired, but my restless mind kept me from drifting off. I kept replaying the scenes from today over and over again and each time I just wanted to bury my face in my palms.

Never would I have ever thought that finally hearing those three words fall from the lips of someone I actually cared about would make feel so awful.

_You don't cheat on people you love_.

I flipped over on my back and stared up at the ceiling fan, my hands folding and finding purchase on my stomach.

Tomorrow would be a new day though; I'll wake up early, resist the urge to flick Sam off if he hasn't left for work yet, maybe go for a run, treat myself to ice cream after, visit the park or something. I'll just have a _me_ day and I won't dwell on how horrible this day was.

My body buzzed with anticipation as I thought of all the possibilities, but I couldn't tell which had me anxious more: a day dedicated to cheering myself up or taking a visit to this mysterious place dubbed Sloppy Babies..

* * *

A/N Second Best was starting to get a little difficult to write(angst is tough!) and I kinda missed writing something comedic. Also, Unholy Trinity..I sorta love the dynamic & I love me some Burlesque and Coyote Ugly. I don't want to confuse you into thinking that this is going to be a Quitt love story or anything, it's most definitely Brittana. I've written the first 3 chapters already, so let me know if I should keep this going!


	2. Chapter 2 TLC

A/N I'm so happy with the response the first chapter received, I'm glad I've grabbed your interest! Definitely makes writing this easier knowing I've got an audience waiting. Anyway, here's chapter 2 a little early! Enjoy

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CHAPTER 2

The next day after staying away from the apartment as much as possible and trying to screw my head back on right, I ended up at Sloppy Babies just like Rory suggested. I wasn't too surprised at the line forming at the side of the building, but remembering what the Irish said, I headed toward the front.

"Woah, you're cute and all but I know you see there's a line." The tall, wide shouldered guy said as he held out his arm then pointed to the line of frustrated people, "However, for you? I could possibly offer a trade.." He ran his hand through his mohawk and smirked.

"I have this." I replied quickly, not wanting to hear what creepy things he had in mind, and stuck out the matches Quinn gave me the day before.

"Damnit," He grumbled and wiped away his creepy smirk, "Santana give you that? God, that bitch always takes the good ones!"

"Who?" I asked confusedly.

"Oh, not Santana?" He asked happily and went back to smirking, "Good, Rachel wouldn't like that..so Quinn then?"

"Yes, Quinn." I nodded, somewhat relieved that I recognized a name.

"Alright, well go on in." He said and withdrew his arm and unhooked the red rope so I could pass through. I nodded my thanks and ducked in, anxious as to see what all that fuss was about over this place. From the outside it looked like any other club and inside was probably just as typical; girls bartending, stupid flashing lights, and sweaty bodies colliding all over the place to weird music.

I didn't know I could be so wrong.

"Woah." I breathed out as my eyes danced around the room. There was a low stage directly ahead of me, surrounded by circular tables, each with set with a lone candle in the center, then a long half moon shaped bar counter off to the side that somewhat faced the stage. Almost every seat was filled at the seating area _and _the bar and from what Rory said about my matchbook granting me free entry; I couldn't help but wonder just how much this place charged per person.

Stepping closer to the railing, I noticed that each waitress was donning a different costume; all form fitting and revealing yet tasteful if that was possible. My throat tightened as I took in their sparkling outfits: lacey corsets, ruffled skirts, garters, stockings, feathered bows, high heels, the works! I never really had an issue with acknowledging that I like what I like, that being boys _and_ girls, so seeing as the place was packed with beautiful people, I didn't mind too much.

"Pick up your jaw before someone trips over it."

I quickly shut my lips, embarrassed that I was gaping like that, and turned to the source. To my left was a young looking man, smirking with cat-like eyes lined with eye liner and pointy elf shaped ears. Just like the waitresses, he too was in an outfit: sleeveless black leather vest with a deep purple ascot tied around his neck and a black bowler hat tipped to the side of his head.

"I-I was just looking at their costumes, they're so-."

"Fabulous? Thank you." He smiled proudly, not bothering to hear the rest of my sentence, and buffed his nails on his chest, "Each and every one of them, one of a kind, crafted by yours truly."

"Wow." I breathed out again as my eyes drifted back over to the waitresses, "Is this some kind of strip club?"

"Strip club?!" He gasped and held a hand to his slightly exposed chest, "Honey, I should have Santana wash your mouth out with Jagermeister!" He spat then retracted his hand and tilted his head in thought, "Then again, with the way you're leering, you might enjoy that.."

There was that name again, but I ignored his comment and went back to admiring the confidence each of waitresses embodied as they served out drinks to the patrons with such poise, a trait that reminded me of Quinn.

_Quinn_.

Remembering why I was there, I started to scan the faces even closer trying to see if I could pick out which of the girls was Quinn but none of them matched.

Though there was live music playing, the stage was empty. Only white lights shone down against the thick red curtains while bluesy music played in the background. I grew curious as the band swiftly stopped and the drummer went into some kind of solo while the white lights dimmed and colored ones came on instead causing the crowd to start clapping louder.

"Ah, show time." The guy next to me smiled and nodded to the stage then started to walk away, "Enjoy!"

The red curtains lifted to reveal a familiar looking blonde as she walked gracefully to the mic stand. She wore her hair up, bangs curled and pinned to the side while the rest was twisted into a low bun at the back of her head. Her lips were painted a deep red, almost matching that of the curtain behind her, as she approached the mic. My eyes nearly bulged out of my head as I registered it was actually Quinn up there and not only was she standing on the stage dressed in a long beautiful black sequence gown, but she was singing!

And damn, could she sing!

It was like being entranced as her velvety voice filled the room and dipped into each and every crack and corner then reverberated against the walls and wrapped around my body drowning me in her tone. I didn't recognize the song she was singing, but I don't think it mattered because she was still amazing. She could probably sing the ingredients on the back of a shampoo bottle to me and I wouldn't mind not one bit!

I found myself walking down the sloped stairs to the bar hoping to spot an empty chair, because at this rate, Quinn's voice will have my knees turning to jelly and I might just melt on the spot if I keep standing. Luckily, there was an empty stool at the end of the bar where I could try and wait for her.

It was packed and I practically had to push the guy next to me back on his side of the imaginary personal space line as I hopped up on the stool. I was a little distracted by all the chatter that I could hardly hear the sound of Quinn's sweet voice any longer. Instead, my eyes scanned the various liquor bottles stacked on this huge shelf that probably stood at least eight feet high.

I glanced down the other end of the bar to see the bartender swiftly taking orders and smoothly hanging out drinks. I could just barely see the side of her face; however, most of it was covered by dark, flowing wavy curls. She was also in a costume, but unlike the waitresses, she wore a similar looking black leather vest I saw the elfy looking guy wearing earlier. Hers was slightly tighter though and didn't really cover up much; I could tell because when she leaned over to hand the customer his Bud Lite, the edge of the vest rose about two inches and revealed smooth, caramel colored skin. I tore my eyes away from her and watched as she skillfully handled the liquor bottles, spinning one in the palm of her hand while she moved to fill shot glasses with the other bottle, all while keeping her eyes on the customers. She looked so overworked being by herself behind the bar, but at the same time, she looked like she could handle it.

I peeked back up at the wall of bottles then back to her and wanted to laugh. She was so tiny compared to it and I instantly wondered how the hell she could reach up there. _Maybe there's a ladder?_ My eyes drifted back down to the different styles of glasses hanging on the racks set up on the back counter until a different kind of rack blocked my view.

I straightened up quickly as I realized I was staring directly at the bartender's boobs. They just popped up out of nowhere! I felt my whole body heat up from embarrassment as I blinked my eyes to find hers.

"And what can I get for you?" She snickered, obviously aware of my accidental leer, "Milk?"

If it was possible, I turned even redder, "I-uh-" I tried harder to look her in the eyes, but even that was a difficult task when she insisted on teasing. I kind of wanted to turn and run, because how freaking embarrassing!

"Just kidding," She joked then lifted her shoulder casually, "I'm used to it anyway."

"Sorry," I muttered nervously and finally calmed down enough to stare back into chocolate brown eyes, "I'm actually just waiting to talk to her." I said and pointed to the stage where Quinn was.

"Good luck with that," She laughed, hands busy popping caps off beer bottles and handing them to the guys next to me, "Quinn's such a prude, it's sad really." I frowned at her talking so rudely about such a nice person but I didn't really have time to defend Quinn since she was already asking for my drink order again.

"Can I just get a water?" I asked politely, I wasn't really in the drinking mood. It was then that I could really look at her and I don't know if it was a requirement or something to work here, but she too was gorgeous! Not in the same way as Quinn, but different. A good different. She had her dark, wavy hair tossed over one shoulder, the ends just barely stopping below her breast. She had that kind of hair that looked so soft, the kind of soft that begged to be touched and played with. Her tanned skin contrasted against her dark clothing and each time she moved to hand a customer their drink, her vest slithered up higher to reveal a hint of her toned stomach.

Again, she was gorgeous.

She had the same confidence and poise about her like Quinn and the rest of the people working here, but there was something about her that Quinn lacked. This girl dripped sex appeal and she knew she was attractive and I could tell with every little smirk and wink that she used it to her advantage.

"This must be your first time here, so I'm going to pretend like I didn't hear that because you're wearing white and as much as I'd like to hose you down and get you nice and wet, I'd miss finally having something pretty to look at over here." She replied with a wink causing my heart to beat a little harder and the tips of my ears to heat up, "So, I need you to order a real drink okay?" I didn't want to dwell too much on her comment, being flirty like that is probably in the job description and she's probably just trying to get a good tip from me or something.

"Uhhh, I guess I'll take a Rum and Coke.."

"Rum and Coke, really?" She asked, unimpressed, as her nose scrunched in disgust.

"Well, yeah I-"

"Hey lady?!" A man slurred from the other end of the bar and waved his hand for her attention. She continued to look at me though then lifted her brow before turning to the man that called for her.

"I have a name, asshole, and it ain't _lady_!" She growled and I was actually worried that she might jump over the counter and attack him, but instead she smiled sexily and went to refill his drink before snatching his money away. The guys on that end of the bar cheered and whistled at her outburst; I guess they were okay with it.

Hell, even _I'd _be okay with her talking to me like that.

I shook away the dirty thoughts as she walked back down to my end of the bar with a brightly colored drink in hand then set it down in front of me, "For you."

I smiled at her offering but then narrowed my eyes at her, "This isn't a Rum and Coke.."

"It's something way better," She answered confidently then smirked, "You'll like it."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, feeling like I was being drawn into her, "What's in it?"

"You know," She shrugged casually, "Just a little T.L.C"

I looked to her with furrowed brows, _tender love and care_?

"Tequila, lime, coconut.."

"Oh!" I sputtered and giggled as I brought the drink closer to my lips then paused, "You left out the roofies, right? I'm allergic."

Her cheeks bunched and her eyes squinted cutely as she laughed heartedly, "You think if I wanted to take you home, I'd have to drug you?" I nearly choked on the air filling my lungs at her comment causing her to laugh even harder, "No, there aren't any roofies in there."

"You sure?" I asked with a raised brow, surprised at how smoothly that came out after just suffering another one of her flirty jokes. She smiled then pressed her pouty lips together as she stole some guy's beer and raised it in the air like a salute.

"Bartender's honor." She nodded seriously; I guess her version of a boy scout's promise.

"Okay, cool!" I grinned and took a sip..then another, and another, and another..

"Good, huh?" She asked cockily, leaning on the counter closer to me. I tried so hard to keep from staring down her vest and focused on the drink in my hand and remembering how to talk correctly.

"God, yes.." I sighed and set it down, "What is it called?"

"Whatever you want," She shrugged then started backing away to help the customers at the other end of the bar, "I made it just for you!"

I practically swooned as the words left her mouth then even more when she winked and spun away. She was so freaking charming and dreamy and sexy and a whole bunch of other things that I shouldn't be thinking of when I'm supposed to be heartbroken about my boyfriend cheating on me just yesterday.

I shook my head at the bartender's ways; _she's just really, really good at her job_.

XXXX

Waiting for Quinn actually ended up taking longer than I thought. The bartender and I didn't talk much after she handed me the drink, too busy on the other end of the counter to even venture my way again. I was about half way done with my drink when an even smaller brunette appeared from the back door and quickly shrugged her pea coat off and hung it up on the wall. I watched as Santana glanced over her shoulder at the girl's appearance then rolled her eyes and turned back around, while the shorter brunette stared daggers into the back of her head. I instantly sensed the tension between the two and settled further into my seat, ready for a different kind of show.

"You _finally_ decided to show up," The bartender scoffed as the two crossed paths. I could tell that the shorter brunette's mind was in a whole other place as she forcefully dug beer bottles from a hidden cooler and pushed it to the customer and grabbed the money. I could imagine the other bartender behaving like that, but it didn't really seem right when this girl did it.

"Don't start with me; I'm not in the mood." The shorter brunette huffed and began lining up shot glasses on the counter.

The bartender laughed sarcastically as she poured whiskey into the glasses, "_You're _not in the mood? You were supposed to be here _two hours_ ago! I'm the one that should be pissed right now."

"Well excuse me for not wanting to be in the same room as you!"

"Ha! So _now _you don't want to be in the same room as me?" The bartender sneered and spun to face the shorter brunette, their bodies just inches from each other's. The men began cheering and whistling as the girls stared at each other; the bartender smirking devilishly while the shorter brunette, Rachel, just glared.

It was then that I realized the people sitting at the bar started chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" but it didn't seem that the two were focused on them. I could barely hear what they were saying anymore as the crowd grew louder, but from Rachel's facial expressions, she didn't like what the bartender was saying.

"You're such a bitch!" Rachel snapped and grabbed for the closest drink and threw it on the girl in front of her. The crowd went wild.

"What the fuck, are you serious?!" The bartender growled after Rachel as the shorter brunette stomped off then started to wipe away some of the alcohol dripping from her cheeks.

"What the hell is going on over here?" Another voice rang out angrily as an older woman with sunken eyes and choppy blonde hair came out from a back door and cut off Rachel's exit.

"Rachel is fucking crazy and threw a drink at me!" The bartender huffed, patting a clean dish towel to her breast while the men closest to her begged for her to let them to clean it up for her. I wanted to march over there and knock them off their stools at the nasty things they were saying about her, but the bartender was too angry to hear them. Or maybe she just didn't care.

"You wasting my alcohol, Berry?" The woman questioned as she crossed her arms and looked down at the brunette.

"Santana is a pig!"

_Oh, that's Santana..pretty name. It's different, like exotic, kind of mysterious maybe or just-_

"I don't give a shit what kind of animal you think she is; you are _not _to waste my alcohol! You think this stuff grows on trees?"

"But Sue.."

_And that's Sue.._

"No body parts either!" The older blonde huffed and pointed to Rachel's coat, "If you didn't sing so damn well, I would fire your ass right here on the spot. You make me a lot of money though and I love this place too much to lose it." Rachel looked down at her feet apologetically, "Go home and don't come back to work until you get your shit straight. Now get the hell out of my face."

Rachel proceeded to slip back into her jacket then disappeared behind the same door Sue entered. I was a little shocked to see that they handled their business right in front of everyone like that, but I guess since it was a bar and half the people were practically falling off their stools, no one cared or even paid attention.

I watched as Sue rolled up the sleeves of her blazer and handled the customers while Santana finished getting cleaned off. She tended the bar just as easily as Santana had been doing earlier before Rachel came, it was impressive!

"I'm so tired of these catty little arguments," She grumbled as she grew closer to my end of the counter to check on everyone, "I don't know why I thought it was a good idea to have so many females in one place."

"Because we do everything better," Santana smirked as she reappeared in front of me then smiled at the guys next to me, "Ain't that right, boys?"

The whole bar roared with cheers as she chuckled. Sue shook her head at Santana's antics then looked at me quizzically, "You sing?"

"Uh..no, not really." I stammered nervously. Sue was a pretty intimidating woman when she was focused in on you.

"Useless." Sue shook her head and walked to the other end of the bar. _Useless?_ That sounded familiar. Before I could start throwing myself a pity party, I caught Santana looking my way again.

"Want to make it a two time thing?" She asked, nodding to my drink with a seductive grin. I swallowed dryly at the huskiness in her tone, but before I could answer, or at least try to, a familiar voice answered for me.

"Hey, hey, she's off limits!" Quinn's silky smooth voice chastised as she sidled up next to me.

"What? You're rejoining the dark side?" Santana teased and wiggled her brows at the blonde next to me.

Quinn just rolled her eyes at the girl, "No, this is my new friend..the one I met at Rory's, so please spare her your sluty ways."

"Oh, so _you're _Brittany."

"San..no." Quinn warned, slightly embarrassed at her friend's lack of boundaries. Santana grinned and looked like she was about to say something _extra_ flirty when Sue snapped her back over to do her job.

"Good job up there, Fabray!" Sue nodded proudly. Quinn gave a timid smile in response before Sue went back to taking orders and serving drinks.

"So I see you found me," Quinn sighed as she leaned against the counter, still dressed in her gown from her performance, "Enjoy the show?"

"Yeah, it was amazing!" I replied cheerfully, "I didn't know you could sing like that."

"I'm not _that _good," She shrugged innocently, "I'm just filling in for Rachel, the girl that you probably saw behind the bar earlier, she's the real singer. I usually work back here with Santana."

"Really?" I asked, surprised that the shorter brunette could do anything else but throw drinks on hot girls.

"Mhm, but they've have been having issues lately and Rachel's a bit of a drama queen so here I am.." Quinn's voice trailed off as she went behind the counter to pour herself a drink.

"Hey is that water you're getting over there, Lucy Q?!" Santana called from her end of the bar jokingly, "You know the rules about that!"

"Fuck you!"

"Maybe later!"

Quinn laughed as she came back around and stood next to me. I was shocked that such a nice looking girl like Quinn could use such dirty words, but then again this is a bar. I was also shocked by how easily they teased each other about their sexualities; I was beginning to wonder if this place was actually some sort of gay bar because I've gotten the vibe from all the workers so far. They seemed like good friends though, I was actually kind of jealous; I never really had close friends before, not even in high school. Well, especially not in high school. I was a happy person and all but my acquaintances never went any further than that.

"I'm kind of confused, Rory said that you were a babysitter but there's definitely not any kids here.." Quinn just laughed and shook her head at me.

"We're not _actual _babysitters.." Quinn giggled then explained matter of factly, "Here at Sloppy Babies, you might come across some real..well, sloppy babies, drunk guys and what not. With a bit of alcohol in their system, some people can turn into some real hot messes; it's kind of funny actually." She stopped when she caught me zoning out then laughed, "Have you ever seen Coyote Ugly?"

"Of course," I nodded, happy that she didn't call me out on my dazed expression. I really didn't get what she was trying to say, "Who hasn't? Hot girls dancing on bars, totally!"

"Well, Babysitters at Sloppy Babies are like Coyotes at Coyote Ugly."

"Ohhh," I hummed, still a little lost, "That makes sense..I guess?"

"Yeah, Sue's much better at explaining it. So how'd everything go today? You look a lot happier than the last time I saw you."Quinn commented as she took a gulp of water.

"Fine, I guess." I shrugged, "I mostly stayed away from home, you know, did my own thing. I didn't want to accidently run into Sam. It sucks because I can't really move out and I can't ask him to leave either since he pays most of the rent."

"That _does _suck," Quinn sighed, "Hopefully you'll find a great job soon, that situation is way too awkward to stay in forever."

Just as we were both laughing at the possibility of that ever happening, Santana made her way back over to us.

"What's so funny over here?" Santana smirked as she went to dry off a glass, her eyes fixed on mine causing me to flush slightly. The bar had quieted down enough to the point that Sue left and Santana was able to spend a little more time on our end of the counter.

"Nothing, we're just talking about relationship stuff." Quinn answered as she set her glass down, "Boyfriend problems.."

"Oh, gross." Santana grumbled and scrunched her face up all cute again, "No thanks!"

"You should probably take some notes with the way things are going with Rachel!" Quinn teased causing San to stop her drying and glare at her with this un-amused look.

"Me and Rachel aren't a thing, damnit, she _wants _us to be a thing but-" I watched as the bartender swiftly stopped talking and peeked back up at me shyly then back over to Quinn, "You know me, Q.."

"Sadly.." Quinn sighed in fake annoyance then bumped me with her shoulder, "Santana's all about her feelings and expressing them properly if you haven't noticed."

"Oh shut up!" Santana huffed and threw the dirty towel at Quinn's face then laughed when Quinn squealed in disgust.

"I have a second act, Santana, Kurt is going to flip his shit when he sees he has to redo my make up now thanks!" Quinn grumbled as she threw the towel back at her and turned away to the direction of back stage.

Santana continued to giggle then as if remembering I had been watching the two the whole time, cleared her throat and slapped on her smug little smirk and leaned on the counter to me, her eyes darkening and her voice turning super sultry, "Sooo, you're single then?"

I swear it is ridiculous how easily I swoon for her even knowing she's nothing but trouble. It's probably the whole _I just dumped my cheating boyfriend and I'm super lonely._ It didn't really help that she's very attractive either! I couldn't help myself! My lips parted as I stared back into deep brown eyes and just as I was about to answer her, we both jumped at Quinn's voice.

"OFF LIMITS, SANTANA!"


	3. Chapter 3 Training Day

A/N Fair warning: I didn't even revise this before posting so all errors and what not is on me. My bad in advance! LOL enjoy

* * *

CHAPTER 3

Visiting Quinn at Sloppy Babies after endless hours of job hunting turned out being a daily, or nightly, thing. It was such a nice finish to yet another day of disappointment, especially when I knew Sam's work schedule by heart and being home at a certain time meant there was also the possibility of seeing him there too. I guess it was a little childish of me to avoid him knowing that we sort of _have _to live together for the time being, but I was always taught if you have nothing nice to say don't say anything at all.

Obviously, our lack of communication for the past few days shows I have absolutely _nothing _nice to say to him. I actually think it's an awesome idea, this whole not talking to each other thing, because talking leaves room for arguments and I don't think either of us want to make the situation even more awkward than it is.

I mean, it already takes all the will power in me not to knock on Kitty's door and give her a piece of my mind..or my fist.

So more time spent at Sloppy Babies, the less time I had to spend awkwardly sitting at home attempting to busy myself with tv shows while scanning the jobs listing in the newspaper. It was nice going there each night because someone actually cared about what went on in my day and how I was doing, you know, they showed interest in what I did. Sam was a sweet guy and all, but when I think back to how we used to be, he really was never too interested in what I had to say. Most of the time he talked about work and what he did all day and by the time it was my turn, he was either half asleep or got hooked into whatever show was on tv.

Sam kind of has an attention span of a fly.

Not that I'm trying to compare my exboyfriend with my new friend, but Quinn cares. She never talked too much about herself unless I asked and she always gave really good advice when I talked about each awkward scenario Sam and I had encountered. We could talk about anything and everything in a way where I didn't feel like I was boring her or that I'd lose her attention if I kept talking.

In the span of two weeks, Quinn and I became great friends! Of course where there was Quinn, there was Santana too, but I never really clicked with her since she was usually busy flirting or making bedroom eyes at every cute girl that took a seat the bar. Every now and again though, she'd venture down my end of the bar and do the exact same, but I rarely fell for her tricks.

Also, Quinn kept a close eye on her and made sure that Santana didn't cross any lines with me to the point I was uncomfortable. I never was though; I found it flattering that Santana continued to try knowing just how uninterested I was.

Well, no, I was totally interested in her but being fresh out of a relationship where I was cheated on; her flirty ways would definitely be a problem for me. Also, I'm sure it was just loneliness mixed in with how attractive she is that made me kind of have a crush on her. It was nice to joke around with her though, it was a mutual thing, and I felt a little bubbly inside knowing I could tease her just as bad as she could tease me.

One time, I swear I saw her blush! It was for a brief second before she scurried off, and she'll probably say it was a trick of the light, but I totally saw it. I'm proud to say I gained back a little confidence that night.

Some days Quinn worked behind the bar with Santana like she told me on the first night I visited her. She was just as awesome as Santana at spinning bottles in her palms and serving up drinks smoothly all while keeping her conversation going with the customers before her. It was kind of cool seeing someone like Quinn doing such, well, badass things like that! You'd take one look at her, her sweet smile and pretty hazel eyes, and never guess that she could toss a bottle of whiskey in the air and catch it behind her back with her eyes closed.

Those were the days when Rachel would sing on stage. Quinn was right, she had a beautiful voice but comparing Rachel's with Quinn's was like comparing apple pie to peach cobbler; both desserts yet yummy in their own way. Rachel's voice was loud, like a good kind of loud, the kind that shook people's souls and amazed them with her talent while Quinn's was soft and gently caressed you into falling in love with her sound. They were both so talented that comparing them to each other would just be plain stupid.

XXXX

On one particular night I arrived at Sloppy Babies, took my usual seat at the bar, and noticed that once again Rachel was nowhere to be found. I could tell Santana was trying her hardest to handle everything on her own, I don't know, something about her just screams _I'm stubborn _so I doubt she'd be one to ask for help anyway. The bar wasn't as busy as it was on the first night I came in, but for someone who was alone behind there, it was a lot of work. Most of the time upon my arrival, she greets me with some lame pick up line then goes on to present me with a drink. This time, she didn't even have time to wave at me.

"Alright what'd you do this time, Sandbags?" Sue sighed tiredly as she appeared from the back door and began folding her sleeves up. I watched as the two fell into this routine of moving around each other to take drink orders then swivel around to take money while the other started pouring. It kind of resembled dancing with the way their bodies twisted and slid down the bar.

"I got it." Santana said swiftly, attempting to bump Sue out of the way so she could continue handling the customers on her own.

Sue just rolled her eyes at Santana's stubbornness and bumped her back, "Answer the question."

"Why do you always think _I_ did something?" Santana grumbled as she popped the caps off a couple of beers and slid them to their buyers, "Maybe it's _her_ fault?"

I watched as Sue looked to her with such un-amusement, "This is why I made the rules, so shit like this doesn't happen!"

"Yeah, yeah.." Santana waved off like she'd heard it many times before, "No one told her to fall in love with me."

"I fall in love with you every Friday night, baby!" One of the customers hollered, his words somewhat slurring together, as his face filled with a dopy grin. His buddies off to the side of him laughed and agreed while Santana just smirked and leaned over on her elbows.

She tugged a little on his neck tie, causing him to slump over a little further, before she growled, "I'm not your baby." I watched with wide eyes as she took up some scissors from behind the counter and proceeded to cut the guy's tie she had wrapped around her fist now in two before she tossed it back at him.

The crowd loved it as they all cheered and whistled. Santana just laughed and turned to Sue who was already turning a little red in the face, her frown deepening.

"Rules are meant to be followed-"

"Or broken," Santana cut in sassily.

"Rules are still rules, Lopez." Sue snapped, "If you can't follow them then you're out a job."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would." Sue smirked seeing how shocked Santana was by her statement, "There's a line out the door of perfectly capable bartenders just waiting."

"Yeah?" Santana challenged as she slammed down a bottle of Vodka and faced Sue, "Then why don't you hire someone to help me when Rachel goes all M.I.A on me and Quinn's too busy filling in?" I watched as Sue's stance faltered a little bit at the mention of replacing Rachel, or maybe hiring someone else, but then she was back to being all intimidating.

"Find me a girl who'd work for close to nothing because that's all I've got to give at this point," Sue commented before moving back to serving the customers.

_Close to nothing_? I couldn't understand how a place that was packed practically every night had trouble with money, especially when they two of the most talented singers ever performing! I was always let in for free since I've become such good friends with Quinn, but they could make at least three grand easy every night from how packed the place always seems.

XXXX

The atmosphere lights changed from their usual colored ones to the plain white lights signaling that Quinn had ended her first act and was now on her break. She'd probably go back stage and switch out of her super tall high heels and into her bath slippers for the time being before heading over to see me. I had her whole routine down pat since the first time I noticed her wearing her fuzzy pink slippers and she told me all about how the changing lights actually meant things and what not.

Then, just like clockwork, Quinn draped her arm around my shoulder and gave me a little side hug, "Hey Brittany, Santana finally let you sit at the bar without ordering?"

"Yes, well, no..she hasn't come down this way yet." I sighed, glancing down the length of the bar to see Santana pouring out shots skillfully.

"Oh yeah, Rachel.." Quinn shrugged and found herself behind the bar to make our drinks instead. I kept sending glances down the length of the bar where Santana had be for the past ten minutes, waiting for some snarky comment about Quinn being back there, but nothing. I was kind of a little sad, I wanted a reason for her to walk this way.

"So how'd the job hunt go today?" Quinn asked as she slid up on the stool next to me, "Any luck?"

"No," I pouted and stirred my drink with my straw, "Not even dog walkers want me!" It was true, I had started straying from any dance related jobs and went for something a little more common.

"Awh, no worries Brittany!" Quinn cooed and wrapped her arm around my shoulders.

"Quinn, I don't know how much longer I can do this.." I replied and peeked up at her through my lashes, "It's becoming a struggle, I'd do anything at this point."

"Anything, huh?" Santana asked smugly as she appeared to be working with the customer right next to me since the rest of the customers made their way over to the seating area. I turned from Quinn to see Santana smiling that same stupidly adorable smirk while she presented the man next to me his beers. Her eyes remained on me as she moved her hands, the reflections of the stage lights flickering against her deep brown eyes, almost like they were twinkling as she stared at me.

For a second there, I almost forgot where I was.

"Get your mind out of the gutter; she was just talking about jobs." Quinn laughed, snapping us both out of our sudden staring contest. It was like everything was still moving in slow motion though as I pulled my eyes from hers, not missing the chance to take in the fullness of her lips, before I glanced back at Quinn and attempted to remember what we were talking about.

"Oh, right.." Santana drawled out with a slow nod as she looked to Quinn too.

"I know this might sound a little crazy, but.."

"Oh no, no, no, no." Santana stammered, shaking her head while Quinn's sweet smile grew. I looked at the both of them, brows furrowed, and utterly confused because neither one of them had said anything important yet.

"No really, it could be a good idea!" Quinn implored with a hopeful grin. Santana didn't seem too moved by it though.

With her arms folded up against her chest, Santana looked to Quinn and squinted, "Hells no."

"Oh come on, you didn't even give it a chance yet!"

"Uhh..guys?" I muttered trying to make my way back into the conversation they were having without me, "What exactly are you talking about?" No one seemed to hear me and if they did, they weren't too concerned with inviting me into the conversation.

"That's because I know Sue, Q, she won't go for it."

"I won't go for what?"

Suddenly, Sue was standing right behind Santana. She looked to Quinn then back down at the brunette, brow lifted, and waiting for an explanation.

"Go on, tell her your _brilliant _plan." Santana teased as she crossed her arms and rested her hip against the bar while Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Well, I was thinking about how unreliable Rachel can be and I thought that maybe you could give my friend a shot at taking my place at the bar?" Quinn's request came out so silky smooth and sweet that I couldn't see how _anyone _could say no to her no matter what she was asking them!

Sue's eyes narrowed in thought as she pursed her lips, "And who might that be?"

"Brittany."

I was in mid sip when Quinn uttered my name. I remembered how upset Sue got when Rachel through alcohol on Santana that one night, so I pressed my lips tightly together so I wouldn't spit out any on accident.

"Uh, me?" I asked with wide eyes while wiping my chin with the back of my hand, "I-I-no..I couldn't. "

Sue eyed me carefully while Quinn went on to talk about how job situation, or lack thereof, while Santana watched the whole thing quietly.

"Yes, you can. You need something, I'm helping you out." Quinn answered confidently then looked back to Sue, "I think she and Santana would make an awesome pair!"

"Hmm.." Sue hummed as she tapped at her chin with her finger, "How good are you with your hands?"

"I mean, just wanky." Santana snickered mostly to herself as she tried to stifle her giggles with her hand. Quinn shot her a glare while I tried to come up with an appropriate answer.

"I guess, I'd say I'm pretty good?" I replied hesitantly, "I-I don't know, I've never bartended before."

"Seriously, Fabray?" Sue groaned looking unimpressed, "I have a whole list of applicants that actually have some sort of experience."

"But would they work for the same price is she would?" Quinn asked, her lips curling into a triumphant grin. Sue mulled over the idea while staring at me like she was trying to size me up or something. Seconds ticked by and I was starting to feel a little vulnerable under their gaze. I was beginning to have flashbacks of the director and the audition when Sue finally spoke up.

"Santana will start your training tomorrow afternoon before we open." And with that, Sue walked off leaving me there jaw dropped and speechless.

"See? Told you she'd go for it." Quinn smirked while Santana just shook her head.

"Did I just get hired?" I stammered, finally registering that the whole conversation actually happened. Quinn and Santana both laughed in unison.

"No." Santana said first, her cheeks all bunched from grinning.

"Definitely not." Quinn seconded, "But it's one step closer! You'll train with Santana for a couples days then you'll get an audition just so Sue can see how well you work under pressure."

"Which I'm sure you work _really _well under.." Santana husked causing Quinn to roll her eyes.

"You'll learn to ignore _those _kind of comments too." Quinn scoffed making Santana chuckle, "Well, I'm due back up so I'll see you later!"

After Quinn headed back stage to get ready for the second half of the show, it was just me and Santana at the bar. It had quieted down enough to the point that I was the only other person sitting at the counter since the show was starting back up.

"Wow, one minute I can't even get hired as a dog walker and the next I'm lined up for bartending training." I mumbled mindlessly, still somewhat shocked that Quinn was able to pull off getting me this close to a job. I knew she was going to be a great friend!

"Crazy, right?" Santana chuckled as she wiped down the empty bar counter, "So for tomorrow; doors open at 6, try to get here around 3 so we can have a few hours. I'll show you the basics back here like techniques and what not then I'll see how well you can follow along." I nodded seriously; amused that Santana was actually capable of having a conversation with me without flirting. Then I realized that for three whole hours I'd have to be in impossibly close quarters with her, subject to her instructing me and flirty ways all in one, and suddenly the anxious feeling in my stomach multiplied by a million!

I mustered up some confidence though because I didn't want to let Quinn down knowing that she genuinely believed I can be a bartender and work well with Santana. I felt the churning in my stomach slow and I smiled back at Santana confidently, "Okay, I'll be there."

XXXX

"_Are you sure you don't need me coming up there, Britty?"_

"No daddy, it's okay. I'm fine." I sighed for the billionth time. I still had a little time to kill before I had to start getting ready to go in for training, so I decided to call up my Dad. He had been a little on edge lately after I broke the news to him about me and Sam. I left out a couple details here and there, one being exactly _what _caused me to break it off with him. I don't think Sam would last all that long when there's a very pissed off Dad on your case.

"_Okay, I'm just worried. It's not healthy living like that. I can send you more money for anoth-"_

"Dad, no." I replied abruptly, "I love that you want to help so much, but I have to do some things on my own. I know money's kind of tight for you since mom died." I heard him deeply inhale at mom's mention, "Besides, I think I might have a job soon!"

"_You've gotten another dance audition?_"

"Mm, not really." I mumbled, "It's sort of, well, it's at a bar.."

"_A bar? Like with alcohol?"_

"Dad.." I laughed, "What other kind of bar is there?"

"_Ice cream bars.." _He teased causing me to grin, "_Well, you're a grown woman now; I don't need to tell you to be careful out there._"

"I know, Dad." I answered softly, "It's only a temporary thing, you know, until I find something better. I just can't stand the idea of not helping out with money. I found a really nice person, she's become such a great friend to me through all this Sam stuff. She's the one that got me lined up for this. I've got training in a little bit and I might be a little nervous right now, but I'm totally going to nail it! I think? I hope so! Ugh, I just want to help."

"_You're just like your mom, it's a little scary_." He chuckled and I could just picture the grin on his lips, "_Well good luck, kid! Knock'em dead!" _

"That's what I plan on doing." I replied confidently, "Thanks Dad."

After hanging up, I glanced over at the clock hanging in the kitchen and noticed that I had about thirty minutes until Sam would come home but I also had an hour until it was time to be at Sloppy Babies. Deciding that I rather dodge Sam, I hurried into the bedroom and got ready. Showering and doing my hair was easy, picking an outfit though? That was tough.

"What do bartenders even wear?" I muttered to myself as I scanned my side of the closet. I thought back to what Santana wore and, after recovering from blushing at the memory, I realized I had nothing remotely close to that kind of outfit. After trying on and ripping off at least ten different looks, I pretty much gave up and stuck with a black Ramones tee and a grey cardigan paired with dark blue jeans. I wasn't going to be serving customers anyway, just practicing, so it wasn't like I had to really dress to impress!

XXXX

I arrived at Sloppy Babies twenty minutes earlier than I thought. I wondered whether or not I should kill time elsewhere before going in, but I'm sure Santana would appreciate me being early.

_Unless she's not here yet herself. _

"Hello?" I called out into the deserted looking club. It was weird being in there when no one else was; it seemed scarier, less lively, cold. There weren't any waitresses waltzing around with drink trays in hand, no flashing lights, no band playing jazzy music in the corner, and no Santana.

"Santana?" I called out as I neared the bar, scanning around me as I went. There was no sign of the bartender, but I did catch sight of a damp wash cloth resting on the counter.

_She's here somewhere then._

I thought about having a seat on the stool and waiting for her to come out from wherever she was hiding, but then I heard some rustling somewhere behind the bar. Hopping down, I stepped around the counter and walked towards the door I always saw Sue and Rachel coming in and out of.

I hesitated at opening the door though, the memory of the Sam and Kitty incident flashing in my mind. My hand hovered over the door knob as I swallowed thickly. I knew there wasn't a chance of Sam being _here _with Kitty, but something kept me from turning the knob.

_Maybe Santana and some other girl are back there?_

I didn't realize how sad that made me feel until I actually visualized it which is stupid because Santana is a free woman, she can do whoever she wants! Still, having that happen to me a second time would be torturous. Letting out a sigh, I drew my hand back with the intention of going to sit back down, but at the same time the door opened from the other side.

"Holy shit!" Santana shrieked, dropping cardboard box to the floor and jumping about two feet back. I let out a scream too and stumbled backwards as well, almost tripping over my own feet as I went. Once we put some distance between us, she looked up at me, the fear slowly fading from her face, then plucked out her headphones and started laughing, "Oh, it's just you."

"Sorry I scared you.." I giggled, up righting myself and moving to help her pick up the box.

She feigned a scoff as she kneeled for the box too, "Scare me? I wasn't scared.."

"Oh yeah?" I smirked, brow quirked as I took the box from her hands and stood up, "Is that why you screamed?"

"Me? A screamer? I don't think so," She replied trying to play it off.

"Yeah, sure.." I drawled out fighting a smile, as she stayed kneeling on the floor while I looked around with the box still in my arms, "So, where do you want this?"

"Oh, uh, you can set it down right there." She pointed to the end of the counter, "I'll get that later." She stood up and dusted off her tight leather pants as she moved to the middle of the counter, "It's 3 already? Damn time flies."

"It's not 3 yet," I replied after setting down the box and turning to her, "Sam gets off around this time so I didn't want to run into him at home."

"Who?" She questioned as she folded her arms and rested her hip against the counter, "Oh wait, is that the boyfriend?"

"_Ex_ boyfriend." I corrected causing her to chuckle.

"Right, you're single now." She teased and flashed me a pearly white smile before shaking her head at herself, "Alright, I'm serious now."

"Uh huh.." I hummed, unconvinced.

She just feigned a scoff and rolled her eyes at me playfully, "Well..since you're here early I guess we can start." Santana replied and snatched up the damp towel she must've left out earlier and tossed it into the sink, "Rule number one: Never waste Sue's alcohol. She gets really bitchy about that, so I'm going to teach you the pouring count. I'll show you how to make some of our more popular mixed drinks, but people mainly order beers and shots. It's pretty easy stuff once you get the hang of it, you ready?"

"Let's do it!" I answered enthusiastically.

"Damn, how forward of you Brittany but I really think we should focus all that energy on the drinks." She smiled cockily while I slowly registered what I could've said that she somehow switched up to mean something totally different.

"Really?"

"Okay, okay, that was the last one!" She laughed, her hands shooting up in defense, "Let's get to bartending. First things first: lose the sweater."

"What? What's wrong with my sweater?" I pouted as I dug my hands in the pockets of my cardigan, "It's comfy!"

"Uh huh, that's great but sleeves might catch on things so I'll just be taking that." She stepped closer to me as her fingers ran along the collar of my cardigan and slowly peeled it off my shoulders and slid it down my arms. I felt my pulse quicken at her closeness and the way her cool fingers left hot trails down my skin. As the last of the material slipped away from me, she folded it carefully, almost delicately, then placed it below the counter right next to her purse. "Rule number two: show some skin. More skin you show, the more tips you make and you definitely want to make good tips! So let me just-"

Before I knew what she was doing, she was ripping away the hem of my tee shirt!

"Hey! What are you doing that for?" I gasped and flinched away at her touch, but she had already ripped away what she needed to. I felt the chill air of the quiet bar hit my skin and instantly looked down to see that half my stomach was now on display, "Was that really necessary?"

"Of course," Santana nodded innocently, though the mischievous glint in her eyes sort of gave her away, "Well, no..I've always wanted to do that."

"That was my favorite shirt.." I pouted, my bottom lip jutting out.

"I'll get you another one," Santana sighed apologetically and tossed away the material she ripped from my shirt, "But can I at least say one thing?"

I nodded as I rolled my eyes.

"You have one of the sexiest bodies I've ever seen and I haven't even seen you naked yet!" I instantly flushed at the comment, like my ears turned pink, the back of my neck got all sticky feeling, and my palms started to sweat. The way Santana can be so _honest_ is really something!

"I-uhm-thanks?" I stammered while Santana laughed at how easily flustered she gets me, "Alright quit laughing and teach me something!"

XXXX

It turned out bartending was a much easier job than I thought, but that's probably because I'm not serving up any real customers and the shots I've been practicing pouring are actually shots of water. I'm sure it would be a whole different situation if there were real customers here, all shouting orders and money flying everywhere. The pressure is what really determines how great of a bartender you are, I suppose.

"Hi, what can I get for you?" I asked cheerfully as Santana pretended to be yet another customer.

"Hm, let me get three shots of your finest water." She replied jokingly then watched me as I picked up my practice bottle and started pouring the shots. Just like she taught me, I counted to four at the same pace she did until water had filled the glass.

I had just got to the second one when she stopped me.

"Here, you're holding the bottle a little weird again." She commented as she came around the bar and stood next to me. I knew she was kind of short, but standing next to me made her seem ever tinier.

I found the height difference adorable.

"Okay, look how I hold it." She instructed as she took the bottle from my hand and slowly wrapped her fingers around the neck of the bottle then turned it upside down, "Don't hold it directly up because the spout thing is curved already, turning it up so much like that makes the liquid come out at a different speed than if I just tilted it like this." She demonstrated the different techniques again before setting the bottle down in front of me and nodding to it, "Your turn." I grabbed at the bottle but before I could start pouring, Santana had her hand overlapping mine. "Little lower and move your thumb right here," She instructed as she moved her fingers against mine and placed them in the proper positions, "Okay, now try it." I followed her movements precisely and rotated my wrist slightly instead of turning it directly, "Awesome, that's perfect!"

"Sweet! Now show me how to do some bottle spinning tricks!" I asked excitedly as I set down the practice bottle and smiled down at her cockily.

"Uhh, I don't know if you can handle all that yet. You've only _just _learned the basics like an hour and a half ago; we still have a lot to cover."

"Okay, fine." I grumbled playfully and went back to practicing my pour counts with my new and improved grip on the bottle. Santana seemed thoroughly impressed by how focused I was on learning everything she had to teach me, but even more at how quickly I caught on.

She taught me how to make the top three mixed drinks, which glass goes for what type of drink, where we put the money, and a long list of do's and don'ts.

"Rule number three: we don't serve water at the bar." Santana listed as I cleaned up my practice shots, "I don't really know the whole story being it, but Sue is a stickler for the rule. Sometimes we get some dumbasses that want to test the rule, those are the guys that you take this lovely gun over here, click this button, and point it right at their ugly mug and fire away."

"You want me to shoot them?" I deadpanned, "Doesn't that seem a little drastic?"

Santana turned to me and smiled sweetly as she tucked the spray gun away, "Awh, that's cute." She teased then pointed to the gun, "You ask for water? You get soaked with water, those are the rules." I nodded seriously, marking it down in my mind and storing it with everything else Santana has taught me thus far.

"How's it coming ladies?" Sue asked as she walked through the empty club and over to the bar.

"Great! Brittany's kind of a natural," Santana complimented as she nudged me with her elbow. I felt the tips of my ears heat up again and averted my gaze to my feet shyly.

"I have a great teacher," I shrugged bashfully and looked over at Santana with a coy smile.

"That she does!" She replied smugly with a wink.

"You've already covered the basics with her?" Sue asked Santana in an even tone.

"Yes, and then some." Santana answered.

"Well then, Brittany, your audition is Saturday." Sue replied then spun on her heels and started walking away. My eyes lit up at the opportunity and I looked to Santana wanting to tell her how happy I was and how much I appreciate her helping me when I caught sight over her jaw dropped.

"What's wrong?" I asked, but she was already walking around the bar to follow after Sue.

"Saturday, really?" Santana huffed, "You can't think up any other day that would be better for a _new _bartender?"

"Not really, no." Sue shrugged casually, clearly not bothered by Santana's frustration. I watched the two in confusion; well mostly Santana because she seemed to upset for some reason. Was Saturday _her _thing or something? Was I intruding on some Saturday tradition that I didn't know about?

"She's a _new _bartender though.." Santana sighed as she looked over her shoulder at me with a wavering frown.

"And?" Sue asked, annoyed, "If she can't handle that then she's useless to me. You have three days, Lopez, prepare her." Those were her last words as she walked off and head upstairs to, what I assume, was her office. Santana just stared after her and shook her head with her hands balled up into fists at her sides before spinning around and walking back to the bar, "She's such a fucking bitch. You finally have someone willing to work yet you want to feed them to the dogs? I don't get it."

"I'm sure it's not _that _bad?" I shrugged attempting to lighten the mood, "She said I have three days for you to train with me some more. It's just a regular Saturday, I don't see what the big deal is."

Santana lifted her head, her chocolate brown eyes staring through thick lashes, as her full lips twitched at a smile, "You know what Saturday is, right?"

"Uhm, the 17th?" I offered with my brows scrunched in confusion.

"Yeah," Santana chuckled like it was obvious, "But it's also one of the biggest drinking holidays, St. Patrick's Day."

How did I even forget? No wonder Santana was so worked up about my audition, I'm guaranteed to fail! I gulped nervously, "Oh shit.."

"Yeah, _oh shit_ is right!"


	4. Chapter 4 St Patrick's

CHAPTER 4

"You totally got this. You're awesome and amazing and hot and you're just going to be so great tonight!" I said to myself confidently as I stared into the mirror at my reflection. Today was the day, or rather; the night and I'd be lying if I said I was just a teeny tiny bit nervous. The last time I auditioned for anything ended up being a complete disaster so being nervous is kind of expected.

Dad always said if you're not nervous, even a little bit, you don't want it bad enough and Dad is always right!

I took a couple deep breaths to try and calm my nerves, but I knew there was only one thing that could really get me relaxed. I smiled brightly at myself before turning to the ipod dock resting on the dresser and hit play before spinning around ready to dance my ass off in my happy little bubble.

Instead, the opening chords of Alanis Morissette's _You Oughta Know_ echoed in the room causing me to freeze and nearly give myself whiplash when I turned back to the ipod dock.

"Not really what I was thinking, but funny!" I said aloud as quickly hit the next button trying to find an appropriate song, "_Cold Hearted Snake_? Yes he is, but no. _My Life Would Suck Without You_? Actually, no it wouldn't. _When I Was Your Man_? Ugh, whatever! _I Want You Back_? Seriously? Did Sam make this playlist or something?!" I was starting to get annoyed with the good songs _refusing_ to pop up that I just continued pressing next without even giving the song a chance. I was beginning to think that maybe it was a sign and after hitting next on last time and moving to hold my head in my hands, the most perfect song came on.

_It's a cold and crazy world that's raging outside  
Well baby, me and all my girls are bringing on the fire_

"And I think we have a winner.." I hummed as I slowly stepped away from the dock, allowing Christina Aguilera's voice and smooth sounds of a jazzy saxophone wrap around me. I shut my eyes, rolled my neck back a little, and let the music take me.

_Show a little leg, got to shimmy your chest  
It's a life, it's a style, it's a need, it's Burlesque_

XXXX

The thing about dancing is that you get lost in the best of ways. Sometimes you forget how long you've been dancing for, the only way of telling time is the number of songs you've danced through, but even then, when you're really in the groove, you lose track of the song count.

It's even worse when you decide to put the song on repeat so it's pretty much impossible to keep track of the number of times it plays which is exactly what I did.

So it's only when Sam's standing in the doorway of the bedroom, his head tilted to the side and his forehead all wrinkled as he took in my outfit, or lack thereof, that I'm reminded of the time.

"You have another dance audition?" He asked hesitantly as he moved to lower the volume.

I quickly wiggled into the black jeans and green and white baseball tee I had laid out earlier while I kept my back turned to Sam, "It's not for dancing."

"Oh..well what kind of audition let's you dress like that?"He asked as I turned around then waved his hand at me for emphasis.

"You know, it's really none of your business." I huffed in frustration, already feeling a little self conscious about my outfit since Santana didn't really tell me anything about dress code. I knew the bartenders wore something different than the waitresses, but I didn't really have a black leather vest lying around. It didn't help that it was also St. Patrick's Day either. I wasn't sure if there was some _casual Friday_ type of thing going because it was a holiday, but I didn't want to take any chance because pinching hurts!

"Take it easy, I'm just trying to have a normal conversation with you." Sam grumbled as he shuffled from one foot to the other nervously, "I know I messed up, but really, do you have to be so-"

"Sorry, I'm just a little-

"Nervous, I can tell." Sam finished , "You don't dance in your underwear unless you're nervous or really happy and I know you're not really happy.."

"Yeah.." I mumbled, not sure what to say but not really wanting to talk to him right now.

"I'm sure you'll do fine."

I swallowed dryly, hating that he was trying to be nice, "Me too." He nodded stiffly, a smile attempting to creep up on his lips but I looked away, "Could you-uh, you know- I'm trying to finish getting ready."

"Yeah, no problem." He replied awkwardly and sulked back into the living room. I shut the door behind him and locked it; I don't need any more interruptions.

__XXXX

I walked into Sloppy Babies to see Santana resting her forearms on the bar counter with her eyes glued to her phone. From there, I could see she was dressed in her usual black leather vest which made me instantly self conscious because I chose to actually wear green. She didn't seem to notice me until I was stepping down the stairs; they sort of echo when the place is so empty. She looked up and smiled sweetly, her eyes meeting mine before they started to drag down and linger on my legs longer than necessary.

"My eyes are up here," I laughed as she took her time meeting my gaze again.

"I know where they are," She smirked, adjusting her weight on her arms as I walked closer, "I just like appreciating a tall blonde in _very_ tight jeans." I chuckled at how smooth she thought she was being and shook my head. She still has such a hard time keeping her eyes to herself, but I'm not really complaining, "Cute sneakers, that's a nice touch."

I peeked down at my feet, forgetting that I slipped on my green Converse before I left, and blushed, "Thanks."

"So, T-minus 1 hour, how you feel?"

"Excited!" I replied enthusiastically as I reached the counter, shrugging my jacket off and hanging it on the back of one of the bar stools. All that dancing earlier really helped get my nerves settled so now that I was at Sloppy Babies, I was super pumped! Santana smiled proudly.

I didn't think I would feel so comfortable behind the bar in such a short time, but I could honestly say that I actually felt prepared. The whole _one of the biggest drinking holidays of the year_ thing was pretty scary when I thought about it, so I pushed it far, far away and focused on learning anything and everything Santana had to offer me.

"Good! You'll need all the energy you can get because it'll be one hell of a night," Santana commented as she stood up fully and went to stretch out her back then looked to me with flirty eyes, "It's basically a typical night spent with me so.."

I've yet to learn how to take Santana's flirty comments like that; I mean sometimes I can get in a good comeback, but most of the time I just laugh, too scared that I'd end up making a total fool out of myself.

"Yeah, okay sure." I laughed sarcastically, hoping that sarcasm would keep my cheeks from flushing. I watched as she grinned quietly, her eyes looking like she was having a whole conversation in her head.

"What?" I asked when she tried to stifle a giggle.

"Nothing, I-I'm laughing on the inside right now because you actually wore green.." She teased but not in the way that made me feel bad, not like how kids used to tease me in school. Her tone was different, warmer, almost welcoming. I was surprised when I didn't feel so insecure about her joking me, it's like she had this way of making me feel so comfortable and she wasn't even doing anything but teasing me.

"Well I'm laughing on the inside too because you _didn't _wear green!" I scoffed playfully as I came around the bar and leaned my back against the counter, "You're going to be getting pinched all night, sucks for you."

"I'm going to be behind a bar the whole time and unless some guy has the balls to reach over the counter and get his wrist snapped," She trailed off with a devilish grin as she looked to me, "Or _you _get the lady balls to do it yourself, I don't see that happening."

I wanted to be offended by her calling me out on not having the _lady balls _or whatever, because _what the hell_? I totally have some! Big ones, maybe bigger than hers! Well, maybe not because she's really badass..but they're totally there! Like who does she think she is?

She was looking at me with that _I got you right where I want you _type of smirk and it burned me up knowing she finds it amusing to get me all flustered like that. It was sexy as hell, but so frustrating all at the same time!

I was just about to defend myself when she took a step closer.

"Besides, who said I wasn't wearing green?"

I scrunch my brows at her statement because I'm looking at her and she's wearing her usual uniform: black leather pants, black leather vest, smoky makeup, black boots, etc.

"Well, _I'm _looking at you and I see no sign of-"

Her fingers are quick to start unbuttoning the first couple buttons of her vest and I'm surprised at how fast her fingers work, it's probably at record breaking speed! I'm so focused on how quickly her fingers move that I remember what she's actually doing and as soon as I see shimmery green fabric cupping soft tanned flesh, I shut my eyes tight.

"Can you stop?" I practically snapped at her, taken aback at how mean I sounded. When she didn't make a sound, I instantly felt bad. I continued to keep my eyes closed, afraid of the kind of backlash Santana was waiting to give, but to my surprise I heard her laughing instead.

Slowly, I opened my eyes to find her stripped out of her black leather vest and currently buttoning up a green leather one instead. I wanted to smack myself in the back of the head at how I reacted; actually thinking that she was trying to expose herself like that to me. That would've crossed so many lines, but that's not even what she was doing..she was just changing. Still! She couldn't have went somewhere else and did that?! It was then that I realized we weren't exactly alone anymore; a familiar looking guy was standing next to her now, holding a container with all sorts of St. Patrick's Day accessories.

"So you're _not _cool with people changing in front of you, noted." She joked as she buttoned up the last button of her new vest.

"You would think she'd wait a little while before taking her top off, huh?" The guy next to her sighed as he motioned for her to pick one of the accessories then looked up at me, "Nope, it's like she doesn't even care. I'm Kurt by the way, I believe we met awhile back."

I nodded and smiled politely while Santana shuffled around in the container, "Brittany."

"I don't." Santana huffed as she adjusted her glittery bow tie around her neck, "You want modesty? I'm sure Quinn's around here somewhere. Mama said if you got it, flaunt it. I'm just doing what mother dearest wants."

"Santana.." He warned but she wasn't fazed.

"Anyway, did you bring what I asked for?"

"As if I'd want to suffer a Snixx-attack?" Kurt chuckled and set the container he was holding down on the counter so he could use both hands to dig around in his carrier bag. He pulled out a similar looking vest that Santana was now wearing and handed it to her.

Santana grinned as she motioned for the accessories container again and picked out another bow tie and two tiny plastic leprechaun hats, "Thanks Hummel."

"Mhmm," He hummed then smiled at me, "Good luck tonight!"

"Thank you," I replied trying to sound a little happy, but I was still beating myself up over snapping at Santana. She didn't look the least bit bothered, but I just don't like being mean like that without a reason, "Hey, I'm sorry about kind of..yelling at you earlier."

"Don't worry about it," She shrugged casually, "You're very sexy when you're angry."

I blushed furiously at that, but happy she wasn't bothered by the mix up.

"Anyway, these are for you," Santana said as she gestured to the vest, bow tie, and hat in her hands, "We don't usually have the person auditioning in uniform, it's sort of a way for customers to pick out who's new, but I think you're going to have enough to worry about tonight so I had Quinn bring her vest from last year so you at least look like you fit in."

"Oh wow, thank you Santana," I smiled, accepting the uniform from her hands before looking back up at her, "That was really nice of you."

"Just trying to score some brownie points with you," She winked cutely then pointed to the door Kurt came from, "You can go back there to change, dressing rooms are on the right, but I'm warning you now, all the waitresses are back the changing in front of each other so if you're shy the bathrooms are across the way," She pointed across the club, "Or if you want you can be like me and change right here, I'll even turn the other way if that makes you comfortable."

"Really?" I scoffed, "I'm not shy or anything it's just..I thought you were-" She lifted her brow expectantly and smirked, "Ugh! You're so.."

"I'm so what?" She challenged as she crossed her arms over her chest. It was hard to find her intimidating when she had a sparkly green bowtie around her neck and tiny plastic leprechaun hat resting crookedly on her head, but she still had that stupid smug look on her face and I just had to prove myself or something!

"You want lady balls? I'll _show _you lady balls!" I huffed and pushed the uniform she handed me back to her to hold. I yanked off my shirt and threw it behind me carelessly then reached over and snatched the vest from her hands. I didn't realize that I'd have to unbutton all the buttons before putting it on so my little rush of confidence started to falter when I had to stop and unbutton each button. It was so time consuming, but when I looked back up at Santana to make sure she wasn't joking me, I caught sight of her flushing cheeks and her quirked brow and her jaw dropped a little.

Finally, I felt like I was on top for once!

I shrugged on the vest as soon as I unbuttoned the last button, glancing back at Santana between every other button to see how she was doing. After I had covered up my stomach, her eyes were mostly trained on my fingers and I felt my skin tingle at how concentrated she seemed to be on them.

"See?" I asked triumphantly as I smoothed out the buttoned vest, "I did it."

"Never said you couldn't," She smirked and held out the bowtie and hat to me, "Hurry up and put these on so I can go over the last few things."

I let out a deep sigh as I took back the accessories; the top was nice for a good two minutes.

Santana did a rough overview of everything she taught me over the past couple of days while I put on my tie and hat before she moved onto the newer things, "So, not that it happens often, but on the off chance that it does, these are the ice buckets." She pointed below the counter to a couple of buckets, "Sometimes customers get a little too excited and they need to be cooled off; fill up these buckets with ice from the bit and throw it on them. Don't be afraid to stand on the counter to do it; just don't involve yourself, okay?" She was looking at me all serious-like and her tone was so stern that I knew she was in her professional mode again.

"Okay."

"Puck's always watching, pervy I know, but it comes in handy." She joked lightly, "There's a little button under the counter, right here," She gestured to the area, "If the ice buckets don't work, push that and Puck and the other bouncers will be over here to handle the rest." I nodded to everything she said, remembering every word. "Now for the boring part," She teased, "Sue is going to be watching from her office, also really creepy I know, so if you really want this job I need you to be on point. I know it'll be harder because of all the people going to be here tonight, but just remember your counts and your techniques. You'll do fine if you just focus on that. I'll still be right here with you if you need anything, but just know Sue'll be watching you."

"Oh man, okay." I exhaled deeply and nodded.

"Don't be nervous," she grinned and set her hands firmly on my shoulders, "You _got _this!"

"Totally," I nodded again, my tensed shoulders easing at her touch.

XXXX

"Now _this _is just adorable!"

Santana and I turned around from prepping our station to find Quinn in an emerald gown, her hair down in wavy curls, and smile sprawled across her face.

"What?" Santana huffed as she slung her rag over her shoulder and leaned against the counter on one arm while I just looked up and continued to dry my glass.

"You're matching." Quinn teased, "You match with her but you don't wanna match with me?"

"It's uniform..we're all matching!" Santana dismissed with an eye roll while I just snickered behind her, "Besides, bowties and hats were all Kurt had left so-"

"Not uh, I saw some beaded necklaces and a green lei in the container too!" I cut in happily and smiled at the two of them. Quinn looked between Santana and I and smirked.

"Really?" Santana grumbled.

"What? I _did_!" I protested. Santana just glared, or attempted to but failed, and ended up smiling too. "I like the bowtie and hat though, seems more-I don't know-sophisticated!" I added tried straightening my bowtie, "Plus I feel kind of cool matching with you.."

"You messed it up again," Santana sighed tiredly and went to straighten it back up.

"I got it," I whined trying to swat away her hands but she was persistent.

"No you don't, you can't even see it!" She chuckled, "There. Now quit messing with it."

"Fine, okay!" I mumbled then looked back up when I heard Quinn giggling. I almost forgot she was even sitting over there.

"Remember what we talked about Santana," She pointed as she hopped off the stool then smiled to me, "Good luck Brittany, I'm rooting for you!"

XXXX

The first couple of hours Sloppy Babies was officially open went by incredibly fast. Everything was such a blur because I was still trying to get used to serving actual people rather than Santana and all her fake accents and make believe orders. I was handling real alcohol, not just liquor bottles filled with tap water, but real alcohol.

I remembered my counts when I poured the shots though, even if counting in my head was slightly more difficult now with all the people yelling out orders and money flying everywhere.

Surprisingly, I was having fun! Well, I wasn't really all that surprised, I knew I would be having fun because I'm with Santana and though I don't really hang out with her other than training and her making drinks for me every night, she's a lot of fun to be around.

I kept in mind that Sue was somewhere around here, keeping an eye on me, so I worked really hard on remembering all of Santana's advice: Don't waste alcohol, show some skin, never serve water, etc. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep up with Santana since she's been doing this for who knows how long, but I did my best to stay with her.

I also worked really well with the customers! At least, that's what my tip jar showed. It was nearly full by the end of my second hour and I still had five more hours to go! Just glancing down at it, there had to be at least $150, maybe more.

"Brittany, help me with these shots!" Santana called from her end of the bar and gestured to the glasses she was lining up. I kind of sensed it was a set up because Santana rarely asked me to help her, but I nodded anyway and picked up a bottle of Tequila in each hand and went at it effortlessly. I glanced over at Santana to see if she was watching, but instead she was looking up at the tinted windows of Sue's office with this proud grin on her face.

I found happiness in making her proud, so tried hard to keep doing it.

XXXX

"Getting tired yet?" She called to me as I popped caps off of three beers and slid them to their rightful customers. We were another hour into the shift and there was no sign of slowing up since the night was just getting started.

"Tired? Never!" I grinned back, running purely on adrenaline.

"That'll be useful one day," She winked and went back to spinning bottles in her palms.

XXXX

I pretty much had serving beers and shots down, what I found myself tripping up on where mixed drinks. Sure, Santana showed me how to make their more popular ones but what had me confused was _how _they ordered. You can tell I don't really go out to bars that often.

_Jack and Coke, Double-Tall."_

_"Absolut and Cran, Double-Short."_

_"Tanqueray and Tonic Single-Tall."_

Somehow Santana sensed that I was kind of flailing and she stepped in, "I like my glasses like I like my ladies: tall, so that's what we got."

I tried to listen to what she was saying for future reference as I went to help the next customer. I felt a little embarrassed for not realizing that tall and short was in reference to the size of the glasses, but I knew there wasn't any time for that when there's a sea of people waiting for their order to be taken.

Santana swiftly grabbed for the liquor bottles and made the drinks the customer requested without even breaking a sweat. Afterwards she positioned herself close enough for me to hear her, "I forgot to teach you how they order other kinds of mixed drinks.."

"It's okay," I smiled, "I'm doing fine so far, right?"

"More than fine!" She winked and went back to her end of the bar.

XXXX

With two more hours left till closing time, I was actually starting to feel the effects of being on my feet for so long. I was glad I decided on wearing sneakers no matter how much Santana teased me about it earlier; comfort over cute! I was tired though, but I had to keep going!

"Damn, Brittany, you were on a roll with that last guy!" Santana joked as she slid a beer down to another customer. I ducked my head bashfully, not wanting to go into any details, but she must've say the $50 tip he gave me when he walked away.

Quinn had stopped by on her break, but the bar was still way too busy to say anything more than a hi before I had to get back to taking orders. It was a little scary knowing that sometimes Santana did this by herself, I couldn't imagine how she handled the whole bar alone.

Thankfully, the last two hours flew by fast and by the time last call came the place was nearly empty again. All that was left to do was clean up which I wasn't really bothered by because we could at least clean at our own pace rather than be rushed by people waiting on us.

When Puck, who I found out was the mohawked guy trying to hit on me the first night I came here, said that the place was officially closed for the night Santana and I looked to each other and sighed.

"You were awesome tonight!" Santana commended, "I don't give compliments like that very often unless I mean it or I'm trying to fuck, which in your case both are extremely accurate."

"Santana.." I groaned tiredly but still kept the smile planted on my face.

"Alright, all joking aside..you were great." She replied, "There's no way Sue will pass you up!"

"You think so?"I asked hesitantly, "I thought I slipped up with the whole mixed drink thing and there was that one shot I over poured on and-"

"Shut up. Brittany, you were great." Santana said with this sort of finality in her voice then tossed me a rag, "Now let's get this place cleaned up so I can take you out to celebrate! Don't worry, Quinn'll go too."

"Wait, celebrate what? I didn't get the job yet.."

"Mhm, _yet_.." Santana smirked as she wiped down the counter, "I love that word, I think it's my favorite."

I wanted to ask her why, what made it so special compared to any other word, but before I could, Sue was walking towards us from the stage.

"Before I go into the long list of things you need to improve on because you suck at them already, I'd like to congratulate you on surviving St. Patrick's Day at Sloppy Babies."

"Thank you." I answered politely, my heart already racing at whatever decision she made. I couldn't help but think back to the last person I auditioned for and all the harsh things he had to say and hoped that Sue had something better to offer me.

"Though you lack experience and you can't even sing, you have heart and you work for cheap," Sue began after this long dramatic pause, "With Santana's help, I'm sure you'll improve at some point."

"Wait, does that mean.."

"You're a Babysitter now, six to two, five nights a week." Sue answered then turned back to walk to her office. I stood there frozen, trying to process what just happened.

It wasn't until Quinn appeared behind the bar next to Santana that I rejoined Earth.

"Holy shit, I'm a Babysitter!" I turned to the two of them and shrieked excitedly despite how tired I felt just minutes ago. They both smiled proudly as I sort of bounced happily in place. I was just so thrilled I didn't know what to do with myself and before I knew it, I had invaded both their personal bubbles! With an arm curled around each of their necks, I hugged them both tightly and nuzzled my head on their shoulders. Quinn was first to return the hug because it's Quinn and we always hug upon greeting each other, Santana was a little jerky at first but soon I felt two hands on my back rather than just one, "Thank you, I couldn't have done it without you guys!"

"Wait, Brittany?" Quinn spoke up softly, "Are you crying?" I didn't realize I was until she said something so it made me bury my face in their shoulders even more, "Oh honey, don't cry."

"I'm just-I'm just really happy, I-I've never had friends as supportive as you guys before." I sniffled as I pulled away from them and gave them a watery smile. Quinn rubbed at my arm comfortingly while Santana seemed to have a hard time saying anything like she wasn't used to having good friends before either. It looked like she wanted to say something but she didn't really know how to which was definitely a first. Feeling somewhat responsible for choking her up, I decided to take it upon myself to break the tension, "Didn't you say something about treating me out?" I asked cockily, narrowing my eyes on the brunette.

Finally she seemed to get back to her normal self as she chuckled then smirked, "I don't remember mentioning me _treating _you but I could possibly be persuaded.."

I remember Quinn and I both laughing because when it comes to being flirty, Santana Lopez _does not _ever skip a beat! With that, we finished cleaning up the bar and the three of us ended the night at Rory's diner.

Like always, Quinn ate for free but when the check came Santana swiftly snatched it and paid for the two of us. I never did figure out how I persuaded her into paying, but just like everything else Santana does, I wasn't complaining.

* * *

A/N Sorry the chapters are short, I've found that I can beat writer's block if I don't check word count until after I've finished writing the chapter. As I've said, this story take a little after Burlesque so if you've never watched it..go watch it (Dianna Agron makes an appearance!) or at least listen to the soundtrack because I'll be adding some songs here and there. The song used this chapter: Express - Christina Aquilera


	5. Chapter 5 Fall Out

CHAPTER 5

"So since you're an actual Babysitter now, I'm gunna let you in on something Santana smirked as she finished teaching me a few other things that she realized she forgot to after working together on St. Patrick's Day. Sundays and Mondays, Sloppy Babies was closed so when I showed up for work on Tuesday it was nice to have a little refresher course. She bent down and pulled out an empty beer bottle then set it down on the counter next to an empty shot glass, "Not everyone knows about this, I usually don't tell a newbie my little tricks of the trade, but I kind of like you in that _we're going to have some really really awesome sex in the storage room one day _way." I snorted at her being so, well, _her_. She just looked to me and lifted her shoulder nonchalantly like telling someone something like that is a normal thing, which it probably is for her because she doesn't have a filter. "Anyway, when a customer buys you a shot, instead of actually taking it and becoming all sloppy and shit, you can-"

"Pretend you're chasing it with beer but really you're just spitting it back into the bottle?" I asked sarcastically, my own little smirk curling at my lips.

The smugness in Santana's face fell as she tilted her head, baffled.

"Hold up, what?" She sputtered, shaking her head, "How'd you know that?"

"I've seen Coyote Ugly.." I shrugged casually. I could tell she didn't really expect me to know that _little trick_ by how she seemed to shut down, "You'd think that the guys would catch on by now, you know? I doubt they've seen that movie though; it's kind of a chick flick. Or maybe they have caught on and just don't give a damn?"

"I-uhm-well, I guess so?" She stammered, "I don't really know.."

"And you know what? I've always wondered what they do with all those bottles filled with back washed liquor!" I rambled as my eyes left hers and I stared down at the counter, "Like they can't obviously re-use it because that's disgusting and I'm sure violates a ton of health codes, but at the same time, it's such a waste!" I looked back up to Santana as a light bulb flickered on, "Wasting alcohol is Rule #1 and spitting it out is wasting alcohol! Oh God, Santana..are we breaking the rules?"

Santana just stared at me, head tilted still as she slowly pressed her lips together like she was trying not to..laugh at me?

"Hey, I'm being serious..I don't want to get fired, I just got this job and it's really, really, hard trying to find one on my own!" I pouted when her reserve finally broke and she was laughing away.

After she finally composed herself, Santana looked at me with her arms crossed and replied, "Here's my personal theory on the rules: break them when they need to be broken."

"But what's the point of having rules if you don't follow them?"

"They're for everyone else to follow," She shrugged, "But not me."

"Oh really?" I chuckled, "And why's that?"

"Because."

"Because, why?"

"That's just the way it is."

"But why?" I challenged seeing how frustrated she was starting to get with me.

"God, do you always have to have an answer for everything?"

"Depends, does one of the rules have to do with avoiding to answering my questions?"

"Rule #4 is about always keeping the customers entertained, so how about we go back to me teaching you how to do that?" She asked smoothly as she successfully changed the subject. I thought about getting back to why she doesn't follow rules because seeing her so flustered like that was a first and I needed to see more of it, but I decided she was right and I needed to focus.

"Geez, how many rules are there?" I sighed playfully.

"Only five."

"Don't waste alcohol, show skin, don't serve water, keep customers entertained, and.." I trailed off, looking to Santana to finish with the fifth rule.

She just smirked and turned back to the counter, "Ask Rachel."

"What?" I asked, brows furrowed, "Why would I have to ask-"

"What is going on here?!"

I flinched at the new voice that came from behind me then slowly turned around to see Rachel standing there, still dressed in her pea coat, and her hands planted firmly on her hips. She looked _pissed_!

"Hey speak of the devil," Santana chuckled as she set down her rag and sidled up next to me and smiled, "Sorry, I meant to say crazy ex girlfriend.."

I nodded slowly, choosing not to comment on the fact that Rachel and Santana _were _a real thing at one point.

"Worse decision of my life," Santana added lowly then spoke out a little louder so Rachel could hear, "Coming back to work? I appreciate you actually getting here on time, but it's a little too late for that now. "

She just glared at Santana, her jaw clenching with rage, before she turned her scowl onto me, "Who are you? Her next hookup?"

"No? I'm Brittany; I'm new here, nice to meet you!" I greeted chipperly then extended my hand out to her to shake. She just continued to glare, looked down at my hand with her lips pursed, and then took a step closer to the counter. As soon as she dropped her hands from her hips, I instantly want on high alert, "Please don't throw any drinks on me, Quinn let me borrow this vest until Kurt is finished with my own."

"What?" She deadpanned, "A replacement? Already?" Rachel didn't seem to like that little tidbit of information very much and spun around swiftly, "Is Sue Serious or am I being Punk'd?"

"Oh please, Rachel, you're not even famous!" Santana mocked, "MTV only punks _important _people, not wanna-be's like you."

"I'll have you know I'm a _very _important person!"

"Yeah, I don't see that."

"Clearly." Rachel scoffed with the shake of her head, "If you actually cared about anyone else but yourself, we wouldn't be in this situation." I watched as Santana's jaw clenched tight and her playfully frustrating side seemed to slowly fade as Rachel continued to talk.

"Uhh, should I go?" I whispered to Santana, but she didn't seem to hear me.

"You knew the rules, Rachel!" Santana snapped, "_You_ broke them, not me! You knew what being with me meant and you did it anyway."

I saw the tears starting to well in Rachel's eyes and I really just wanted to run because being stuck in the middle of a lover's quarrel, literally, is so awkward. I didn't really know much about Rachel besides how she's a very good singer and that her and Santana were together at some point, but that was about it. She was always so angry when she came to work though and I think from that, I formed a negative opinion of her, but seeing her look like a kicked puppy dog like that kind of made me feel bad for her.

"You not breaking the rules? Well that's a first!" Rachel yelled despite the tears rolling down her cheeks. The tension was getting so thick so fast, but I couldn't find it in me to do anything. Seeing such a serious side in Santana was hypnotizing in a way and though I knew I shouldn't really be listening to any of their argument, I was hooked.

"Hey, what's going on over here?" A familiar voice asked that was soon followed by Quinn appearing from behind the side door. She was dressed in just her baby pink rob and her makeup was half finished as she made her way between Rachel and Santana and glared at the both of them, "What's with all the yelling?"

Never have I ever been so happy to see Quinn, and at her arrival, I quickly ducked away from Santana and took a few steps back to let them deal it. I watched as she seemed to calm the both of them in such a mature way, which I wasn't really surprised by because she's just so damn convincing, but as I continued to observed, I couldn't help but think that Quinn has probably broken up arguments between the two on many other occasions.

Suddenly, Rachel's voice rose and she was pointing at me. Confused because I was focusing too hard on Quinn's ways of persuasion, I looked back and asked, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Rachel bit as she stepped away from Quinn and Santana and closer to me, "It's only a matter of time before the same thing happens to you too!"

"Uhm, I don't understand..what's going to happen to me?" I asked, confused.

"Rachel, leave Brittany alone." Santana growled, "She has nothing to do with this, she doesn't even know what you're talking about right now."

"Santana cares about no one, everybody knows it!" Rachel continued bitterly, "She's literally _incapable_of loving _anyone _else but herself and you'll just get hurt-" I seemed to tune everything else out because for the first time ever, I saw Santana look offended. Not only offended, but hurt. I wanted to defend her or something because no one should make another person feel like that, but I clearly don't know all the details so speaking up now wouldn't be fair.

"Rach, come on, that's enough.." Quinn sighed tiredly, "How about you go up and see Sue like you came here to do?" she suggested as she came up behind Rachel and set her hands on the fuming brunette's shoulders. Rachel resisted Quinn a couple times before finally allowing her to direct her out from behind the bar so Quinn could escort her up the stairs to Sue's office which left me alone with Santana again.

I was hesitant to say anything to her after the two had left, but the silence was becoming unbearable. Besides, I'm the kind of person that can't ignore the fact that my friend is hurting. I glanced up at Santana to see that she had already gone back to setting up her station like nothing ever happened. I picked my rag up too and went to drying off some glasses while observing Santana's nonchalant behavior.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly when I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer, "I just, I saw how you kind of-"

"I'm fine, don't worry about it." Santana brushed off, her voice laced with all the undertones of her _not _being fine.

"Oh, okay." I nodded slowly and went back to prepping. It was oddly quiet after that and I hated it. Santana being quiet was probably one of the weirdest things because she's usually always saying something, whether it be flirting or teaching or even humming! Now, she was just a cold brick wall. I felt like it was my job to do something, not only because she was my friend, but because I have to work in close quarters with her for the next seven hours and I can't do that if she's being so strange.

I wanted to break the tension and I knew that there was only one thing that could really lift her spirits.

"You wanna make out?"

It was hilarious how fast Santana's head snapped up, her eyes the size of dinner plates as she stared, "Are you serious?"

"Of course not, silly!" I teased and bumped her with my hip playfully, causing her to grin, "I'm not _that _easy!"

"That's a damn shame." She sighed through her smug smile and went back to prepping bottles. She wasn't completely back to her usual self, but at least I got her to smile again.

XXXX

It wasn't until we were about half way through the shift that I realized Santana stopped chasing the shots customers ordered for her with beer. Now that I thought about it, I don't think she even had a empty bottle prepared. I thought about saying something, but I knew it wasn't my place to tell a grown woman how to live her life even though I'm sure drinking like she was while on the clock was allowed. Either way, I minded my own business and stuck to my section of the bar, working the crowd like Santana taught me to so I could make better tips because with what I get paid, it's just barely enough.

I'd glance down the counter every now and then at how she was doing and each time, she seemed to be doing just fine, especially when a pretty blonde found a seat in her section, fluttering long lashes that made Santana smile devilishly.

"And what can I do _you _for?" Santana asked seductively as she leaned over on the counter towards the blushing blonde. I wanted to roll my eyes and laugh because _really_? How the hell did _anyone _find Santana attractive besides her being obviously attractive? She had about the same amount of game as a horny fourteen year old boy that just discovered porn when I thought about it! The girl didn't seem to mind Santana's cheesy lines though; she actually looked like she was enjoying them!

I kept peeking up to see how they were doing since the place was pretty slow considering it was a Tuesday night. Santana said Tuesdays were always really slow, so the fact that I didn't have any customers to distract me with didn't help at all. I could practically hear everything they were saying and they definitely weren't talking about swapping sugar cookie recipes or anything..clean.

XXXX

"Hey Brittany!" Quinn waved as she shuffled out from the back door in her fuzzy slippers when the lights dimmed for her break. She hopped up on the bar stool in my section and ordered her usual. We chatted idly about her performance until the pretty blonde at the other end of the bar laughed a little too loud and caught both of our attention.

"I didn't think anyone's laugh could be so annoying.." I muttered, turning away from the scene of Santana and her flirting.

"Yeah, I bet." Quinn sighed still looking down the bar, "You'd think she'd take a little break or something, but no. That girl bounces back from a break up like it's nothing!"

"I don't want her to get in trouble or anything, but..she's been drinking." I confessed quietly, not wanting to be overheard, "Should I be worried?"

"About Santana?" Quinn chuckled, "No, she'll be fine. This is how she-uh-copes? Like I said when I first introduced her to you, Santana is _awesome _at expressing her feelings and dealing with emotions. That?" She said and nodded over to Santana flirting away effortlessly, "That's her dealing with her emotions, it's sad really."

The girl's shrill laughter carried down the bar again causing me to cringe.

"That _is _annoying.." Quinn mumbled and turned back to me, "They've been at it all night?"

"Pretty much," I shrugged and moved to wipe up some spilled beer, "That girl isn't even all that cute, I don't get it."

"It's not how cute she is, it's how _willing_." Quinn joked as she took a sip of her drink then glanced back at me, "You're not jealous, are you?"

"J-jealous?" I gasped and looked back at Quinn with wide eyes, "Of that _bottle_ blonde? That's what she is; you're a natural blonde, you know when it comes from a bottle and when it doesn't." I ranted then nodded over to the girl who was leaning over the counter to Santana, her face all scrunched as she laughed some more, "Yeah, definitely not."

Quinn just quirked her brow and smiled, "Okay, just checking."

I went back to wiping down my side of the bar, clenching my teeth and furrowing my brows in frustration because _me _be jealous of _her_? That's funny! Why would I be jealous? What's there to be jealous of besides Santana focusing all her attention on her the whole night? Not that I secretly kind of like when Santana flirts with me or gets me all flustered like she usually does, I just like that she actually talks to me when we work together!

Quinn left a few minutes later so she could start the second act, leaving me to hear all Santana's whispered words and the bottle blonde's giggles. I chanced a glance their way and say how Santana looked at the girl. It was oddly similar to the way she would look at me when I was on the other side of the bar; for some reason, I didn't really like that.

XXXX

"_Closing tiiiiime_! _Somethin' somethin' somethin' but you can't stay here_!" Santana sang playfully, her words somewhat slurred as she started tossing out empty beer bottles carelessly. We were officially closed and since it wasn't that busy, we didn't have much to clean up. At some point, the bottle blonde left, not after scribbling down her phone number on Santana's palm, to which Santana wiggled her brows suggestively and stared at the girl's ass, or lack thereof, until she had left the building.

By the end of our shift, Santana was completely wasted. At least that's what I thought. She didn't really stumble, except for the occasional misstep but for the most part her speech hadn't changed until she started singing. I watched with furrowed brows as she walked back and forth with a rag over her shoulder and four bottles between her fingers as she kept muttering to herself.

"Uh, you okay there?" I asked hesitantly when she stumbled a bit on the corner of the no slip floor mat, "Should I call a cab for you?"

"A cab? Nahh.." She brushed off, her eyes half lidded, then tossed the bottles into the trash bin eliciting a loud clanking noise. "_I know who I want to take me hooome_! _Take me home, take me home_!" She sang out again extremely out of tune and off key all while she giggled. It was so strange to see her like that when she was usually so, I don't know, put-together?

"Are you sure?" I asked again worriedly, "I don't want you hurting yourself or anything on the way home.." That seemed to catch her attention; she slowly spun around, her cheeks all tinted pink from the alcohol and the dopy grin pulling at her lips as she stepped closer to me.

"Awh, you care about me already?" She cooed causing the tips of my ears to tinge pink.

"Well, we're friends..that's what friends do." I shrugged helplessly.

"Yeah?" She asked, brows raised to her hairline, "Well don't."

I looked to her just as confused as I was earlier, but she didn't leave me any room to question her.

"You can go home now; I'll clean up the rest." She replied, her voice coming out as even and clear as if she hadn't been drinking the whole night. I continued to stare at her though, not convinced in the least but she insisted, "Go ahead, we're pretty much done anyway. I'll be fine."

I chewed a little on my bottom lip as we stared before deciding that she probably does this all the time, "Okay.." I hung up my dish towel to dry before tugging on my hoodie while she went back to cleaning. I turned around after getting ready to go out into the still chilly Spring weather and noticed her back towards me, "I'm gunna go now. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay." She muttered, "Later!"

I was still a little skeptical leaving her when she's been drinking so in a split second decision, I walked over to her confidently, "Let me see your phone."

"What?"

"Your phone.." I repeated sternly and watched as she dug it out of her back pocket and handed it over, "I'm putting my number in here so if you need help or anything, you can call me."

"What? You don't think I can handle myself?" She joked as I handed her phone back.

"I never said I didn't," I smiled sadly, "Just, if you need me call me.."

Santana stared down at her phone then nodded without looking up, "Noted."

XXXX

"Hey!"

I finally made my way outside of Sloppy Babies to find the bottle blonde out there waiting with her hands dug in her pockets and shivering.

"Hi?" I greeted back skeptically.

"Is-uhm-is Santana still in there?" She asked anxiously, "She told me to wait out here for her so.."

Looking behind me to where Puck the bouncer was standing, I scrunched my nose. He just chuckled and shook his head; Santana must have girls waiting on her all the time, this is probably a normal thing. I thought about lying and telling her that Santana had already left and her and her horrible dye job weren't needed, but I didn't want to get on Santana's bad side so soon.

Besides, what Santana's intentions were with this girl were none of my business anyway! She could totally do whatever, whoever, she wants! I don't care.

"Yeah, she'll be out in a few minutes. She's almost done in there." I answered politely and went to hail a cab home, not looking back once.

XXXX

That night I set my ringtone tone to the loudest volume and slept with it under my pillow just in case Santana were to call. I couldn't decide whether it was Sam's snoring that I could hear all the way in the living room, the fact that I just wasn't tired, or that Santana still hadn't called me and it was already pushing 4am that kept me tossing and turning the whole night.

XXXX

"Quinn, are you _sure _this is normal?" I asked quietly as I watched Santana from afar walking towards the bar with chunky sunglasses hiding her sunken eyes and her hair all tussled in a way that didn't look purposely done. It was the second day in a row that she arrived to work clearly hungover. It was like a cycle she had going: flirt it up with some _cute _girl all night, leave with her, come back the next day hungover as hell, and then repeat.

Quinn looked up from her sheet music to see Santana shrugging out of her leather jacket sloppily before tossing it under the bar where she usually hid her stuff, "Oh yeah, definitely normal. I think she's actually taking it better this time though, the last few times she'd actually come to work in her uniform from her old job by accident."

"Really?" I gasped, shocked that Quinn found Santana's behavior _normal._

"Yup! She used to be a waitress at the Spotlight Diner and had to wear these old school bright red uniforms with these red, plastic, high-heeled boots." Quinn giggled at the memory, "None of the customers ever suspected anything though since everyone's in costume, so it worked."

My eyes drifted back over to Santana as she pulled out the first aid kit where she kept a bottle of Advil then poured herself some water.

"How long does this kind of thing last?" I asked, my eyes never leaving the bartender.

"Well, her and Rachel weren't together for all that long..I give it a few more days." Quinn shrugged and started gathering her sheet music, "I've got to start getting dressed.."

"Wait, I have a question!" I protested, "There's five rules here and I know the first four already, but Santana won't tell me what the fifth one is. She told me to ask Rachel, but that didn't really work out too well..do you know what it is?"

Quinn looked to me and smiled sweetly, "You haven't figured it out yet? I would've thought you'd got it by now considering all that drama you heard with Rachel.."

"No?"

"Rule #5: Don't fall in love with the bartender."

My eyes flickered back and forth between Quinn's hazel ones, waiting for her to start laughing and say she was just joking, but nothing.

"You've got to be kidding me, that's not the rule.." I sighed after Quinn continued to look at me seriously, "Is it?"

"It is," Quinn nodded, "It's not specifically made for Santana, but rather Sue's theory that alcohol drives people thinking they're in love ultimately extending that love onto the keeper of love. You know what I mean?" I just stared at Quinn blankly, "Guess not, huh?" She laughed, "Well, that's another thing Sue's better at explaining. Anyway, I'll see you at intermission!"

XXXX

On the fourth day of watching Santana practically crawl into work, I decided to take action because waiting it out was way too painful to watch.

"Hi," I greeted softly, already learned the hard way that Santana's ears are super sensitive when she's hungover.

"Hey," She mumbled as she slid out of her leather jacket and flung it into the under-the-bar cabinet, groaning as she accidently slammed the door shut.

"You look..tired." I commented, "Not get enough sleep?"

"No shit, Captain Obvious. That chick just wouldn't leave me alone, like I know I'm good, but damn. A girl needs her beauty sleep." She grumbled without turning to look at me. After the first couple days I've seen her like this, I noticed how grumpy she is and have learned to ignore her mean little comments.

She always looks so apologetic after she says them to me anyway. She never apologizes though, but I can just tell by how she presses her lips so tightly together, like if she does that she can somehow suck the words back in and pretend they never happened, that she didn't mean it.

"I-uh-I got you something," I offered nervous and pulled out what I had been holding behind my back to her. She plucked the sunglasses from her face and stared down at my hand before looking back up at me with her brow quirked.

"A popsicle?"

"Yeah, they've always helped me when I've had a killer hangover. I'm not sure why, I think it's because they're cold and made of flavored water, but they're super tasty too." I kept it extended out to her waiting for her to take it, but she just continued to stare.

"You know, you shouldn't be so nice." She muttered, "People will only take advantage of you here."

I withdrew my hand holding the popsicle and let out a deep sigh because damn Santana is one stubborn woman!

"Well, there has to be at least _one _nice person in the world." I replied hopefully, "Someone has to counteract all the bad.."

Santana just laughed sarcastically and turned to go to the storage room, "Consider me the bad then."

I wanted to tell her that I didn't think she was as bad as she thought she was, just misunderstood, because her behavior is classic misunderstood. I wanted to follow her and give her a piece of my mind because I was tired of seeing her leave with all those random girls each night and come back to work looking like she just rolled out of bed.

But before I could do any of that, she reappeared in front of me only this time she was smiling sweetly.

"Does that really cure hangovers?" She asked skeptically, nodding to the popsicle in my hand.

"Yup."

"Huh," She hummed like she was actually considering it then turned back around as if she was about to walk away then like she finally made up her mind about it, turned to me again and accepted the popsicle with an apologetic grin. "Thanks," She muttered and quickly disappeared into the storage room without even waiting for me to reply.

* * *

A/N I'm loving all the feedback you guys are giving me, definitely pushes me to write chapters a little faster than usual! Let me know!


	6. Chapter 6 Follow the Leader

CHAPTER 6

After the whole popsicle incident, Santana seemed to ease up a bit. She was still coming to work almost every evening with a hangover, but at least she wasn't leaving with some random girl all the time. That didn't me she didn't still flirt like her life depended on it though. Sometimes I just watch her at work, her tip jar filling up quickly, and wonder if flirting is second nature to her.

It was a few days later when I ventured my way into Sloppy Babies to find Quinn and Santana standing at one of the dining tables, their faces both contorted in frustration. I hadn't really ever seen Quinn so upset looking, but her usually pale cheeks were tinged pink and her brows were furrowed as she planted her right hand on the table and leaned over to put emphasis on whatever she was saying to Santana. I was still too far away to hear anything, but from the looks of it, it was a_ very_ heated discussion.

I wasn't sure whether or not I should _accidently _bump into a chair or something to let them know they weren't alone anymore, but I decided that I could probably make my way around them to the bar without interrupting.

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the scene though as I tried to maneuver my way around the empty dining chairs. The closer I looked at the two, the more I realized that it looked as if Quinn was in the middle of scolding Santana. The bartender couldn't make eye contact with the taller blonde and chose to stare up at the ceiling or down at the table like she was..ashamed? I don't know. It was so strange seeing the usual confident Latina looking like a sad panda for the _second _time in almost two weeks.

Suddenly, something Quinn must've said triggered the bartender and she was back to spitting bitter words to the blonde. I knew it had to be something bitter because from knowing Santana for just a few weeks, I could tell when she was being mean just by her demeanor. Their voices started getting louder as they went at it to the point that I could actually hear some of what they were saying.

"If you would just pull your head out of your ass and deal with things like a normal person-"

"Don't tell me how to live my life, Fabray, I can take care of myself!"

"Clearly you don't! You can't keep doing this, Santana. She's the first person other than me that genuinely cares about you."

"Which is why I don't need her around me! She isn't like you, she doesn't know me, she doesn't know how I can be."

"Well here's a thought, how about you quit acting like a tortured soul and let her in?"

I watched as Santana seemed to recoil from Quinn's words. She didn't say anything, just let Quinn continue talking, her face blank like she had been caught in a lie. Quinn's voice was softer this time so I couldn't hear what they were saying until something sparked in Santana again and they went back to shouting.

"I don't care!"

"Yes, you do!"

I noticed Puck ducking his head in from the entrance to see what all the yelling was about, but when he saw it was just Quinn and Santana, he shrugged and went back outside. This type of thing probably happens a lot I guess judging by how uninterested Puck seemed to be. I looked back to the two still arguing and decided that I really needed to quit eavesdropping.

_Is it still eavesdropping if they're talking so loud that everyone could hear though? _

I had already stowed my stuff away beneath the bar and decided to head outside so that they could be alone and I wouldn't be tempted to listen in, their voices muffled once again since I was too far to hear what they were actually saying, when the sound of one stinging slap echoed. Another sound closely followed.

I snapped my eyes in their direction to see Santana holding her cheek with one hand and Quinn holding her cheek with hers.

"What are you doing?!" I shrieked at the realization that things just got violent and rushed over to them. Neither of them answered, just rubbed at their cheeks and kept their eyes narrowed on each other. My eyes flickered between them, waiting for someone to say something but they only..laughed?

"You hit like a girl."Santana chuckled, her fingers running down her cheek to clutch her jaw.

"Thank you." Quinn replied sweetly, "You should try a little more fingers rather than all that palm, it'd be more effective."

"Wanky."

"Do you need to be slapped again?" Quinn sighed, her eyes shifting from Santana's to mine as her lips pulled into a smile, "Hey Britt."

"Uhh..hi." I stammered confusedly. We stood there silently just staring at each other until Quinn said something about getting ready for tonight and walked away.

I glanced over at Santana wanting some type of explanation, because friends don't just slap each other like that then go on about their day, but she just dropped her hand from her face and shrugged, "We have a very loving friendship." She quirked her lips into a little grin and went towards the bar to start prepping.

XXXX

I assumed that Quinn and Santana's argument had something to do with Santana's drinking on the job, but as our shift started, I realized she was still doing her usual thing. I tried keeping to my end of the bar seeing as Santana was doing a fine job entertaining the customers in front of her, but after the third shot I watched her take, I had to pull her aside.

I was _not _going to deal with another drunken mess. Not that Santana was _that _much of a mess when she had been drinking, but I didn't want to worry for another day. It wasn't like I could control my worrying because if I could switch it off, I totally would! I guess it's different because without Sam, Santana and Quinn are pretty much all I have. They're my friends and friends care about other friends. At least, that's what _I_ think. From watching how Quinn and Santana interact with each other, I might be alone on that one.

"What gives? I was about to make a killing on that dude!" Santana grumbled when I tugged her away from the customer by her elbow.

"I think that's enough drinking for you tonight." I replied hoping that my voice wouldn't waver at how annoyed Santana looked. Surprisingly, she took a step back and narrowed her eyes on me.

"Yeah? Who says?"

"I do."

"Oh really?" She laughed seeming unconvinced then crossed her arms defensively, "And why would I listen to you? I'm _your _boss, it's not the other way around."

"You're not my boss, Sue is!" I argued but she didn't look too fazed.

"Yeah, but _I'm _in charge back here." She countered smugly. We continued looking at one another in this sort of staring contest until I finally broke eye contact.

"Fine then," I muttered and stalked back to my side of the bar where one of the customers was trying to get my attention. I could feel Santana still staring at me as I walked away and went to greet the guy and his buddy, "Hi! What can I get for you?" I worked my magic and smiled sweetly, batting my eyelashes at them both and leaned on the counter on my forearms, grinning even harder when I saw both of their eyes slip from mine down to the skin the opening of my leather vest exposed.

"Oh my God," I heard Santana laugh and no doubt shake her head before she reappeared at my side a little further down the bar. I smirked confidently and focused back on the customers.

Just as I hoped, they ordered shots.

"And don't forget one for your pretty lil self!" The one with a scruffy beard winked and held out a twenty dollar bill to me.

"Awh, thanks!" I beamed happily and accepted the money before swiftly plucking up the liquor bottles and poured out the shots. When I finished, I slid two to them and joined them in raising our glasses and shooting the liquor back in unison. I didn't even give my special beer bottle a second glance as I took the shot and swallowed. I pressed my lips tight together attempting to keep my smile on and hide the fact that my esophagus was on fire, the whiskey leaving a burning trail as it washed down my throat. The two were quick to cheer though; one even tossing their glass in the air and catching it before saying they'd take another.

I took one more with them before they switched to something on draft and walked towards the stage as Quinn went into her third song. I was thankful that they left, whiskey was never really my kind of liquor, but tonight I was actually going to take every shot bought for me. After all, I'm only doing what I've seen Santana do and she's my _boss _behind the bar anyway.

XXXX

I was trying to keep track of how many drinks I accepted, but after awhile I started to lose count. Not that I was drinking _a lot _ but..yeah, I don't remember. It's not like I was drinking for three hours straight, maybe like a couple every hour or so? It wasn't enough to have me stumbling around, but I did build up a good buzz though! I felt confident with a little liquid courage in me; I started flirting more with the customers (boys _and _girls) and watched my tip jar collect almost as fast as Santana's. It wasn't until a particularly cute girl approached the bar and set her eyes on me that I decided to up my game.

"Hey there, Hot Stuff." The woman smirked as she dropped her chin to her palm and batted her lashes.

"Hi, how's it going?" I asked smoothly and tossed my dish rag over my shoulder.

"Just fine now," She answered and smiled sweetly.

"Awesome," I managed to reply as I was momentarily awed by her perfect smile, "So what's a girl like you like to drink?"

We fell into light conversation as I made her a Tequila Sunrise until I found myself being tugged away from the pretty lady by an exceedingly hotter lady.

"Hey! She almost gave me her number!" I pouted as Santana narrowed her eyes at me.

"What do you think you're doing?" She questioned clearly ignoring my protest, "You _want _to get fired?"

I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol flowing through me or her reprimanding tone that had me sway a little at my spot, but I wasn't going to back down easily. I've got lady balls!

"I'm just following the leader." I shrugged innocently, "And you're _totally _being a hypocrite right now."

She just shook her head and rolled her eyes, her thick hair falling from over her shoulder at the movement, and frowned.

"I need you to stop." She replied lowly as her eyes fell to her fumbling hands, "You made your point, I get it." I took in the way she couldn't make eye contact with me and how she kept wringing out her hands and wondered if it was because I was making her nervous. I couldn't focus too long on that though because before I realized it, I was giggling like a crazy person.

"_And we can't stop! And we won't stop!_" I sang loudly through my laughing and went back to the pretty brunette I had been talking to before Santana rudely tugged me away.

However, as I turned to leave, Santana grabbed on to my wrist. I couldn't remember if that was the first time she had ever initiated physical contact with me, but the thought alone had me stiffen.

"Brittany.." She uttered my name barely loud enough for me to hear over Quinn's singing then pulled me so that I was facing her again. Her eyes met mine briefly as she slowly let go of my wrist, "You want me to beg?"

I felt the corner of my lips lift into the smuggest of grins, "Oh yeah."

XXXX

The pretty brunette ended up leaving to sit near the stage shortly after I came back to talk to her. I was a little bummed because I thought my jokes were actually pretty funny but I guess she didn't think so. It was okay though because another equally attractive person took her seat and the game was back on. I was starting to think it was my lucky night because I found almost every person sitting in my section attractive, but then I remembered all that whiskey I had earlier and decided that if I was completely sober, they probably weren't even a tiny bit cute.

I was slowly starting to feel the effects of all that alcohol, even if the shots were spaced out, but I did my best to keep from looking sloppy. After all, a Babysitter is supposed to take care of the sloppy not actually be one.

As the guy that took the pretty brunette's seat ordered his drinks, he offered to buy me one too. I thought about breaking my special bottle back out because I wasn't sure how long I could keep up with the drinking but I wanted to prove my point to Santana. Also I wanted to reiterate that I totally had the lady balls, sometimes I still think she doesn't believe me.

I had just poured out two shots of Patron when Santana swiftly sidled up next to me, her hand running along the small of my back as she leaned in and swiped the glass from my fingers. Without a word, she shot it back then set the glass on the counter and winked sexily at the customer. His jaw dropped a little as she ran her tongue slowly along her bottom lip before breathing out a, "Yum!"

If I wasn't so mad that she took _my _shot, I would've found the whole move extremely hot. Hell, I _did _find it hot even if I was mad. I kept my eyes trained on Santana as she sweet talked _my _customer until he had all the drinks he needed and left. I wanted to interrupt and tell her to go back to her side of the counter and maybe yell at her about stealing my shot, but I couldn't get the image of her licking her lips out of my head!

It was like super slow motion: a little tip of pink poking out between two pouty, extra kissable, lips then dragging along her fuller bottom one, leaving a glistening trail. I was hypnotized.

I didn't snap out of it until I was literally being _snapped _out of it.

"Huh?" I mumbled, blinking a little to realize Santana was snapping her fingers in front of my face.

"I said you're cut off, I'm serious this time." She replied sternly, "People are starting to notice something is off with you and I don't like it." She jutted her chin out to one of my past customers as he was leaving, "See him? I'm pretty sure he's been plotting to get you shit faced because he keeps buying you shots. I told him if he tried that shit again, I'd have him thrown out. I'd send you home early if we weren't already about to close.." I kind of tuned out everything else she said because the ringing in my ears were getting louder and my body just felt like it was on fire. I knew my face was flushed because that always happens when I drink or when Santana's scolding me.

Something about her bossing me around really gets me hot, I don't know.

"Brittany, are you even listening to me?" She asked, snapping her fingers in my line of vision again.

"Mhmm, I'm all ears like Dumbo." I nodded then regretted it because that was way too much movement for my already spinning head. I actually had to reach out to steady myself in case my legs decided to give up on me. I was surprised at how quick Santana reached her hands out to me; she didn't touch me but she still made the effort to catch me if I fell.

Then I thought about how in that movie Superbad the guy that's like a mini Seth Rogen head butted Emma Stone and accidently gave her a black eye because he passed out and I got super worried that I might do that to Santana. That would be so embarrassing. I'm sure she'd still be hot though, even with a black eye.

"You're drunk." Santana sighed and moved to grab a glass then filled it with water.

"Heeeey, we don't serve water!" I tried to argue as she handed the glass to me but my words came out a little more slurred than I would've liked.

"Go sit in the dressing room and drink this," She instructed as she began to walk me in the direction of the door leading out of the bar, "I'm going to clean up and I'll drive you home."

I was in mid sip when I realized she was going to clean up by herself and before I could stop myself, I was attempting to talk, totally forgetting that I had a mouthful of water.

Santana just rolled her eyes, a smile threatening to grace her pouty lips, as she handed me some napkins from the counter.

"Sorry," I mumbled as I wiped my chin, "I got excited."

"Yeah, I see that." Santana replied before nodding to the door, "Go sit down and make sure you drink all of that. I've got clean up." I nodded sadly and turned to go sit in the dressing room with my cup of water.

XXXX

"Woah, what the hell happened to you?" I heard a familiar voice ask. I hadn't realized I dozed off until I had to pick my head up off the wall I had been leaning on and blinked a couple times to adjust to there being three different Quinns standing in front of me.

"Tried teachin' Santana a lesson.." I groaned before shutting my eyes tight because the room was spinning again and it looked I was being surrounded by even _more _Quinns.

"You think it worked?" She asked quietly, the sound of a giggle building up in her throat. Before I could answer, I heard the door open again signaling someone else walking in.

"Here, I've got your jacket and your phone." Santana said as I felt the items land in my lap and the glass I was struggling to hold on to get pried from my fingers, "You drank all of it, right? You didn't pour it anywhere, did you because I'll be highly upset if you did? I'm not trying to slip and bust my ass leaving here tonight, I don't have health insurance." I opened my eyes again, or more like squinted, so I could put my jacket on without dropping my phone. I wanted to laugh at how silly she looked eyeing the floor for a spill like that; it was cute.

I shook my head at her questions, a dopy grin filling my face because I totally _would _pour it somewhere if she hadn't been so adamant about me drinking all of it.

"Oh yeah, it definitely worked." Quinn smirked as she slid into her jacket too.

Santana looked over her shoulder as she started buttoning up her coat, "What worked?"

"Nothing, something on my phone.." Quinn recovered, shaking her phone in her hand casually, "You look surprisingly sober. Did my words finally sink in to that thick skull of yours?"

"Whatever," Santana waved her away, "Maybe if Brittany here didn't decide to drink up the whole bar.." Santana trailed off then turned to me with softer facial expressions, "Where do you live?"

Suddenly the thought of going home like this and having Sam see that I had been drinking gave me chest pains. I didn't feel like dealing with him and the questions he's bound to ask me, he doesn't even know where I work! Not that he needs to know, but I know he'd have something to say about me working at a bar. It was like a mixture of guilt and frustration or something and I hated how _going home _made me feel like that.

I didn't realize that I hadn't answered until Quinn was answering for me.

"Just bring her with you and take her home in the morning when she's sobered up," Quinn offered simply.

"What? Hell no, I'm not an _actual _babysitter. _You _take her home with you." Santana huffed, folding up her arms. The two of them started bickering again, but not loud enough to make my head hurt even more. I hated that they felt they needed to take care of me though; I got myself into this mess, I can get myself out!

"Ssokay, I can getta cabbie.." I muttered causing both of them to stop talking abruptly.

"No."

"Yeah, I don't think so." Santana agreed with the shake of her head. She looked like she was going to say more and I tried really hard to concentrate on her words, but my eyes closed faster than I could think about keeping them open.

XXXX

"Watch your head." I heard Santana advice, but I kept my eyes closed and continued to let her guide me into her car. I helped her as much as I could, but no matter how hard I tried to control my limbs, they continued to disobey me.

"Sorry.." I mumbled for some reason feeling the need to apologize.

"Say sorry one more time, I'll give you something to be sorry for." She joked as I felt her hands run over my chest. Even through my thick jacket, I could feel it and sucked in a breath at the touch. "Easy tiger, I swear I'm not trying to cop a feel. I'm just buckling you in."

I felt myself smile as my head rolled away from her, "Sure, thas-wha they all say.."

She just chuckled and pulled her hands away after hearing the click, "Just please don't throw up in my car."

XXXX

"Hey, we're here. I'm gunna need you to at least try to use your legs because I don't think I can carry you up three flights of stairs. You'll probably break my back and not in the way that I've been hoping for."

I felt myself nod and tried hard to do as she said. The chilly air hit m cheeks as I pushed myself out of her car, shocking me out of my drunken daze long enough for me to slump my arms around the bartender without worrying about invading her personal space. She slipped her arm around my waist while she held on tight to my hand dangling off her shoulder, allowing me to rest my head on her shoulder.

Little wisps of her hair tickled my nose as we started to walk causing me to scrunch up my face and burry it a little deeper in her hair to hide from the wind, "Ya shhmell good."

"Thanks, but I'm not your personal scarf," Santana grumbled but even without looking I could hear the smile curling at her lips.

"You are tonight."

XXXX

I stumbled into what looked to be Santana's bedroom as she went to flick on the lights.

"Ugh.." I groaned at the sudden brightness and soon the room was dark once again.

"My bad," She sighed, "You can sleep in my room, the couch isn't really all that comfortable and I already feel a little bad that you're going to have a nice hangover tomorrow, I wouldn't put you through that."

"But..your bed's so big. We can't share?" I replied but she just laughed instead.

"Oh no, definitely no." She chuckled, "I know what happens when you share a bed with a drunk. You'll get all clingy and try to cuddle because you don't feel well and I'll let you because I feel bad and seeing you so helpless like that would be really cute; it's cliché. I mean, I already dodged having to hold your hair back when you throw up and accidently calling you something nice like _honey _or _sweetheart _which I'm surprised you haven't done yet. You sure you don't need to throw up because I just washed those sheets?"

"N-no.."I mumbled tiredly.

"Well, good." She huffed and moved to her dresser and started pulling out clothes, "I'm putting some clothes here for you to change into if you want, okay?" I laid back against the most comfiest bedspread I've ever felt and almost

"Mmkayz."

"I'm just gunna change in the bathroom, it's right here if you need to go or anything later." She disappeared behind the door without another word. I took the time to quickly, or as quickly as I could, change out of my uniform into what she had set out for me: baby blue, cotton pajama pants with a white drawstring and a NYU shirt that was probably baggy on her but fitting to me.

I padded my way back to her bed and slid under the covers, humming in delight at how nice her sheets smelled. At first, I was a little hesitant about taking her bed because of all the girls she leaves the bar with but she said she's already washed everything so it was okay.

I made a mental note to make a mental note to ask her what kind of detergent she uses because it really did smell nice.

Then again, it might just be _her _that smells so nice.

XXXX

At some point, I dozed off again only to be reawaken by the bright light streaking across the room from Santana opening up the bathroom door. The lights flicked off just as quick so my eyes didn't have the time to readjust.

"Does the shirt fit? It's the biggest I've got."

"You callin'me fat?" I muttered but she just laughed.

"I've seen you with your shirt off and I can say that that's the last thing I think of your body." It was my turn to chuckle as I rolled to my side to face her, my body already successfully tangled up in her bed sheets. "I see you've made yourself comfortable. Well, I'll be out there if you need anything." She was turning away and before I even knew I was saying something, I did.

"What?" She asked and looked over her shoulder at me.

"No bedtime story?"

"My Babysitter duties don't extend to other Babysitters, sorry." She smirked, "Now, if you'd quit rambling I could get some sleep so.." She jutted her thumbs at the bedroom door and started to leave.

"Wait."

She turned back to me with her brows raised.

"Sleep with me."

I don't know what urged that out of my mouth, it wasn't even an option in my head because of her little speech about clichés from earlier, but it fell out faster than I could stop it.

What surprised me even more though is when she walked back to the edge of the bed with one of the sweetest smiles I'd ever seen adorning her face. There wasn't any smugness or cocky grin, no smirking or flirty comment, just her standing there..smiling genuinely.

That was the last thing I remembered before grabbing onto the rainbow colored tail of a giant unicorn and hitched a ride into the sunset singing a really weird version of _I believe I can fly_.

* * *

A/N Santana is going to meet Sam next chapter, fun fun fun! LOL


	7. Chapter 7 Repercussions

CHAPER 7

As soon as blinked away the last signs of sleep and was greeted by the first signs of a killer hangover, I went into panic mode. My mouth was extremely dry, my lips chapped, my arms feeling like dead weight, and I'm sure my messy hair could probably house a couple cute pigeons because I could just feel that it was a total bird's nest.

I knew better than to freak the hell out though because any unnecessary movement would cause more pain, but the fact that I was actually laid up in an empty bed rather than in my usual spot on the couch at home was enough to have me slowly start to sweat. I couldn't really remember where the hell I was or how I got there even and that alone brought me back to my early college days of drunken girls' nights out.

It wasn't until I started to look around the mysterious room to maybe get a hint of whose house I was in that I realized I was really really hot underneath all the blankets. I always manage to tangle myself up no matter what, but even more when I'm drunk. I'm just a really active sleeper I suppose. As I glanced at the grey, empty walls then dresser top covered with jewelry, perfume bottles, earrings to the lone arm chair in the room with two black leather vests thrown over its back, my memory slowly started coming back. I backtracked the night before, or what I could remember, as I tried to wiggle my arms free when I hit me:

_Sleep with me_.

My eyes widened at the memory, along with whose room this was and whose bed I was laid up in, and I was quickly untangling myself from silky sheets despite how much my body ached, desperate to see if that actually happened.

To my surprise, I was still fully dressed in Santana's baby blue pajama pants and NYU tshirt.

I let out a sigh of relief, because how awkward would that have been, before turning to my side to see a bottle of aspirin, surrounded by Sloppy Babies matchbooks, and a tall glass of water waiting just for me on the night stand.

That was the cause of my first smile of the day.

XXXX

The smell of bacon lured me out of bed.

That was my next smile because I don't even remember the last time I had woken up to a hot breakfast. Sam wasn't really much of a cook and I never strayed too far from the microwave when it came to something hot.

After heading to the bathroom to make sure I didn't look like a complete hot mess, I padded out of the bedroom and followed the scent of sizzling bacon. Upon leaving Santana's bedroom, I first noticed the lack of pictures on the hallway walls, actually, the lack of _anything _on the walls. Either she had just recently moved in or she was horrible at decorating, but as I ventured out into the living room that thought was quickly dismissed.

The first thing I noticed was the huge flat screen tv that hung off the cream painted brick wall. It was the first thing I noticed because it was left on cartoons, from here it looked to be an episode of Rugrats which had me slightly confused because that show has been off the air for awhile now. I moved further into the room, picking up on the warm cozy feeling of someone cooking in the kitchen and the tv being left on and the natural sunlight filtering in through the curtains and though I should be cringing at all the light, I sort of liked it all.

Maybe it's because my _home _lately hasn't really been feeling like home with everything that's happened, but something about Santana's place made me feel, I don't know, welcomed. When I was close enough to see, I peered back up to the tv to see it was the episode where Chuckie was getting his first haircut, and chuckled because that really was a great show back then. I remember watching it at home with my dad and laughing because he was laughing too and I never thought I'd see a grown up laughing at cartoons but he was.

I looked around the well decorated living room, admiring how healthy all her plants were and the few pieces of art hanging on the walls, none personal pictures though, then caught a glimpse of a keyboard tilted up against a well stocked bookcase. I walked closer to see how worn the buttons were and the dust free whites and blacks of the piano keys. Santana never really struck me as a musician, then again, there are a lot of things I don't know about the girl to begin with.

It wasn't until I looked away to admire Santana's fluffy white rug that I saw the lone pillow and throw blanket lazily strewn across the longer of the two leather couches.

_I guess she really _did _take the couch after all_.

Thinking that it was the least I could do, I leant down and folded the blanket up neatly and set it on the chair's arm along with the pillow before heading into the kitchen. I was actually surprised that Santana hadn't spotted me sooner since the living room and kitchen were basically connected; the only thing dividing the two was a bar-like counter and three low hanging lamps.

I rounded the bar to find that the kitchen counter on the other side of it was covered with a plate of golden waffles, a bowl with fresh strawberries and blueberries, and another plate lined with paper towels. I didn't focus too long on the delicious looking food for my attention was being drawn to a pair of toned, tanned, _bare _legs peeking out from under an oversized red and white flannel shirt and black socks with two white bands around the tops rolled up to her knees. I nearly collapsed at seeing the sight and though it was probably the sexiest outfit I'd ever seen on the bartender, I couldn't help but find the whole thing extremely cute.

But what was even cuter? Santana's humming. I couldn't make out the tune, but I liked it. I could already picture it getting stuck in my head and humming this mysterious tune for the rest of the day because it was so catchy and cute and just so.._Santana_. I don't know, I can't describe it. If Santana were to have a sound, that would be hers.

Then I realized that I had been standing in the threshold of the kitchen for a few minutes now and that's kind of creepy considering she still hadn't realized I was there yet.

"Need any help?" I piped in causing Santana to flinch at the sudden sound and spin around, left hand wielding a metal spatula while the right gripped the handle of a hot frying pan.

"Holy fuck!" She gasped, swinging the pan around and the spatula in the air like she was _really _about to fight me off with it. I grabbed the closest thing to me, which happened to be an empty plate, and hid behind it.

"Sorry!" I pleaded, ready to embrace bacon grease to the face but it never happened.

"Oh God, it's just you." Santana sighed in relief, the sound of the pan hitting the stove closely following. "You need to quit creeping up on me like that; I could've wasted you with this bacon." I slowly set the plate back down, trying to fight a grin at how scared she had gotten the _second _time. She went back to frying up bacon as she nodded to the fridge next to her, "There's some popsicles in there if you want one."

"Really?" I grinned and opened up the freezer door to find an unopened box of name brand popsicles, the kind we couldn't afford at me and Sam's apartment, "Thanks."

"No biggie, that weird trick actually _does _work." She chuckled then turned down off the stove and brought the pan of crispy bacon to the counter behind her so she could lay out the strips on the paper towel covered plate, "How are you feeling anyway? Did you take the medicine I set on the night stand?"

"I'll be okay, I'm sure the pills will kick in once I get some food in me." I answered as I bit off the plastic tip of a cherry popsicle, thankfully for having something to finally fix my dry mouth.

"Well, you're in luck then. Chef Snixx's specialty is breakfast and though it's already afternoon, who gives a fuck." She smirked and handed me a plate, "Dig in."

XXXX

At first sitting face to face was kind of quiet. I wasn't sure why and I don't think she knew either. Finding something to talk about was hard for some reason, but we both chalked it up to her being really hungry and I being plagued by the worse headache, which really wasn't all _that _bad. I just needed an excuse. Santana always came off to me as a very guarded person and though my head was swirling with a never ending supply of questions for the bartender, I knew I couldn't ask in fear of scaring her off.

But the weird thing about our quietness was that it wasn't awkward. Well, maybe it was a _little _awkward, but it wasn't to the point that I was rushing out the door or she was fidgeting in her seat with nerves. It was a comfortable quiet.

"So, I saw you have a keyboard over there.." I drawled out attempting to make up some sort of conversation.

"Uh huh." She hummed as she sliced up her waffles.

Rolling my eyes at the tiny smile she tried to keep from her lips, I asked the inevitable, "So do you play?"

"I do," She answered shortly.

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Lots of stuff," she shrugged casually.

"Can you play me something?"

Finally peering up from her plate, she smirked, "Nope."

"What? Why not?" I gasped, "You could be lying for all I know."

"Could be," She teased with her nose all scrunched, "You'll never know.."

"Sounds like I have to stick around and see then," I countered with a wink that had her snickering again.

"Maybe."

XXXX

"This was super tasty," I complimented after finishing my third waffle and popped a fresh blueberry in my mouth, "Did you make them from scratch?"

"I did," She nodded with a soft smile on her lips as she pushed around a slice on her plate, "Waffles are kind of my go-to thing."

"Oh yeah?" I chuckled and reached for my glass of orange juice, "What happened to Chef Snixx and breakfast being her specialty?"

I slowly watched her shoulders ease as she snickered and went for a strawberry, "I said it was my specialty, I never said I knew how to make more than one thing."

"Well you do better than me," I shrugged, "I can make a mean bowl of microwaveable oatmeal though!"

"Sounds delicious." She teased as she finished up the rest of her food then moved to clear the table.

"Wait, I'll get it-"

"No, you don't have to-"

"It's the least I can do-"

"Really, you don't-"

It was a lost battle for the both of us before it even started, because too stubborn people wanting to help at the same time is always going to be a lost battle.

"Okay, fine..but I'm drying." San sighed as she finally let me take the dirty dishes from her hands and led the way to the sink. With a triumphant smile fixed on my face, I followed after her.

XXXX

"By the way," I said to break the new found silence that fell over us as I started to warm the water and dampen the sponge, "You've got a really nice place."

"You think so?" Santana asked almost timidly as she dug around in the drawers for a clean dish towel.

"Definitely! You must make a lot of money at the bar to afford a place like this."

Santana just giggled softly and nodded, "Not really, I can thank dear old dad for all of this. Well, the money he left me for college anyway." She trailed off like she was trying to make light of something that hurt. She seemed like the kind of person that made jokes about stuff you shouldn't really joke about.

I just shrugged anyway, "Still a nice place."

"Thanks."

"You must get that a lot though, right?" I asked lightly as I ran the soup over the sponge and kneaded it between my fingers.

She rose with her brow quirked and her face all scrunched, "Why do you say that?"

Sensing that I might've just overstepped my boundaries, I cursed my big mouth and shook my head, "Nothing, I don't know why I said that. Just ignore me."

She didn't though; I could still feel her eyes on me as I looked back down at the sponge in my hands, hoping that she'd look away soon. She didn't say anything further, just stood next to me and silently dried the plates I handed to her.

It wasn't until a couple of minutes had passed that her voice broke through the sound of rushing water and the occasional clink of the plates. She was busy drying a glass in her hands when she spoke so evenly, "I know you might have formed your opinion of me already, and I don't blame you if it's a bad one, but I'm not-"She lets out a deep sigh like she's struggling to find the right word before shaking her head a little, "I don't bring those girls I leave the bar with, I-I don't bring them back here. I never do."

It was in that moment that I felt like Quinn was the only other person that knew what she had just told me. It was like her little secret and she just let me in on it.

I wanted to ask so many questions: Where did she bring those girls then? How many of them actually saw the inside of her apartment? Did Rachel even see it before? So many things were left unanswered, but I knew that when the time was right, Santana would fill me in on her own. She was just the kind of person that had to slowly warm up to you because, for some reason, friendships were kind of hard for her to manage. That, I could tell from Quinn being the only friend I'd ever seen around her.

"Well, I feel super special then." I replied and smiled brightly down at her hoping to convey how honored I was that she told me that and wanting to encourage that she could tell me more stuff like that only to find that her eyes were still glued on the nearly bone dry glass in her hands. It was like a nervous tick, her turning the glass in her towel covered hand over and over like that. She didn't finally put it away until I was handing her another plate.

We fell into another comfortable silence after that.

XXXX

"Did you fold this or did I?" She asked as I followed her out into the living room and she stopped at the blanket I had folded earlier.

"I did," I answered with a shrug, "Sorry for kind of stealing your bed last night.."

"Kind of?" She teased accompanied by a smirk.

"Well..flat out stealing." I corrected feigning a guilty sigh.

"I'm kidding, don't you remember? I offered it to you, well actually, I _made _you sleep there. You didn't really have a choice in the matter." Santana replied matter-of-factly as she scooped the pillow and blanket up in her arms and started walking towards the hallway that led to her room, "I'll just put this stuff away and slip into some jeans so you'll quit staring at my ass and we can go."

I flushed at the thought of being caught, but I don't actually remember staring since we've pretty much been sitting the whole time. I've decided she rather just tease me constantly even if I'm not actually doing what she says I am because I think she secretly likes to make me blush. Jerk.

"Wait, where we going?" I called after her realizing that we didn't have work for several more hours.

"Uhm, home?"She chuckled, "Well, _your _home."

I flushed again, but this time from embarrassment.

_Duh, of course she doesn't want me hanging around her apartment all day_.

"Oh! Right, yeah, okay cool." I rambled attempting to recover, but she was already back in the living room with a pair of dark blue jeans hiding her legs and a smirk to match.

"I didn't mean to sound like I was kicking you out; I just-I just thought that you'd probably want to go home and your phone has been buzzing like nonstop."

"My phone?" I gasped and looked around for it.

"Yeah, it's over there by your jacket." She nodded and pointed to my coat thrown over the bar stool, "I thought about answer it for you because they called like four times, but each time I saw that guppy-lipped face fill the screen, I couldn't trust myself to answer without letting loose a long stem of insults. Sorry."

_Sam._

I giggled at Santana's description as I picked up my phone and swiped to see all the missed calls and texts, surprised that they were mostly from Sam.

"Yeah, that was just Sam.." I sighed, "He must've been worried for some weird reason."

"Oh, the cheater?" She clarified as scrunched her face in disgust.

"Yeah, that's him.."

"Huh, maybe I should've answered after all.." She muttered as her voice trailed off, her eyes narrowing all devious-like, then went to turn the tv off, my eyes following after her as she walked. Not so much was I staring at how those jeans made her ass look even greater than usual, but more so how confidently she carried herself. She wasn't even doing anything special, just freaking walking, but I couldn't take my eyes off her. I wondered if I had that effect on people too.

XXXX

"You really don't have to drive me, Santana, I can make it home on my own." I sighed for the millionth time only to have Santana send me that _yeah right_ smirk for the million and first time.

"It's about to rain and I doubt you even know where you are right now," She countered as we shuffled down the stairs, "Besides, I was going out already anyway."

Something about that didn't seem too true, but I didn't question it. More bonding time with Santana is always nice when it's not constantly behind a bar and there aren't thirsty customers begging for our attention.

"Okay, fine.." I sighed and followed after her towards her car.

You can tell a lot about a person from the kind of music they listen to while they're driving, at least, that's what a lot of people say. Santana, though, she was hard to interpret. The music she played off her ipod ranged from typical radio hits like Ke$ha and Rihanna to the more soulful sounds of Amy Winehouse or the occasional 90's artist like Alanis Morissette to filthiest lyrics from Lil Wayne. Her taste was all over the place so it was hard for me to pick up on anything, not that I knew exactly _how _pick up on anything even if I tried.

XXXX

"Thanks for the ride, that was nice of you." I grinned as she pulled up to my apartment.

"Nice? Nah." She dismissed quickly like the compliment caused her some sort of pain, "Quinn would've killed me if she found out I let you walk home."

A thing I've noticed, Santana puts herself down quite often when it comes to her morality.

"I doubt you would've let me walk home by myself either," I joked as I unbuckled my seat belt, "We're friends, right?"

She didn't answer right away, just mulled the thought over in her head like she really wanted to come up with a good answer. We had to be though, friends don't let friends stumble their way home on their own when they're drunk. They give them their bed and make breakfast and set out medicine and water. Most importantly, they keep the freezer stocked with popsicles at all times.

"Yeah, I'd say that was accurate."

I beamed at her reply because sometimes Santana can be really cryptic but her confirming that we actually are friends was nice.

"Awesome," I grinned happily, "Thanks for the ride."

"Yup." Was her reply which I've always found weird when people said that because I didn't think it was a good reply to someone thanking you. Yup? It's just strange. But, with that, I hopped out of the car, waved goodbye, and then started the dreadful walk upstairs.

It wasn't until I had put some distance between myself and the bartender that the full effect of my hangover came back. I almost forgot I had done all that drinking last night and how crappy I felt waking up this morning, probably distracted by being so close to Santana, until I was inches away from coming _home. _

"Britt, is that you?" I heard Sam call as soon as I shut the door behind me.

"Yeah." I sighed, already regretting coming to the apartment. I shrugged off my jacket and slung it over the couch as Sam rounded the corner in a white tank top and jeans.

"Where have you been? I've been calling you! You didn't come home last night and I-"

I tuned everything out as soon as the words started falling from his mouth, my head shaking at all of his worried ranting, because why does it even matter?

"Whose shirt is that?" He questioned, jealousy creeping into his tone as he eyed my NYU shirt Santana let me borrow, "Are-are you seeing someone?"

I was completely stunned that he had the guts to even ask that considering why we broke up in the first place, but I couldn't bring myself to speak. I was achy and my stomach was starting to churn again and my headache was back, all that coupled with Sam and his irrelevant questions made for one hell of a mess.

"Sam, so what?" I finally asked once I was too overwhelmed by his talking. I turned to him and stared into lifeless eyes that I used to care about so much.

"What do you mean _so what_? Brittany, do you realize how worr-"

"I don't care how worried you were last night, I don't!" I argued tiredly, "Do _you _realize we're not together anymore? It won't happen, we're not going to fix things, we're done, and that's that. I don't need to tell you where I am, I don't need to check in with you, because we're not together. We're just two people sharing a space, roommates."

"That's that?" He scoffed out of frustration, "That's that? Really? I don't get a say in this, Brittany?"

"Of course not! It's _your _fault we're even this way, Sam, _you're _the one that cheated on _me. _I didn't ask for that, _you _did this to us." He was speechless for a moment as he dug his hands in his pockets. I could feel tears brimming and all the yelling I was doing wasn't really helping my headache, but I had way too many emotions to sit idly by this time. "You don't get a say because you've already said what you needed to! Actions speak much louder than words and judging by _your _actions, you weren't happy." I waited for him to say anything, but when he didn't, I turned back to my jacket and put it on.

"Where are you going?"He asked, he suddenly finding his voice, as I walked out of the apartment and headed for the stairs. I could hear him calling for me, but I couldn't be in the same room with him any longer. The closer I was to him, the angrier I felt.

I rushed down the stairs as fast as my legs could take and shoved the heavy door open, grateful for the gust of cool air that hit me as I stumbled outside.

"Hey, watch out!" Someone grumbled from the other side of the door as I came out from behind it at hearing the familiar voice.

"Santana?" I gasped as I looked around the door to see the bartender gazing up at the list of room numbers to buzz. She quickly spun around at hearing me and looked like she was about to run away, "What are you doing here still?"

"I was just, you know.." She rambled, looking everywhere else in the world but my eyes before digging into her purse, "Oh! You left this in the car and I just wanted to give it back to you." She pulled out this pen that had some business logo printed along it from her purse and held it to me with a shrug, "It could've been your favorite or lucky or something, I don't know."

I couldn't find it in me to tell her than I had never seen that pen before in my life when the door swung open yet again. Santana was quick to stop it from smacking me in the back of the head though, something I must've done to her by accident only seconds ago, as she extended her arm out and stopped the door while I hopped down the steps away from it.

"Brittany? Britt-Oh!" Sam's voice came as he peeked around the door to find me standing next to Santana. I watched as his eyes flickered between the bartender and I before he focused solely on me, "We weren't finished talking, come back inside."

"Oh, we're definitely done talking for today." I chuckled sarcastically as I folded up my arms.

He let out an aggravated sigh at my stance before reaching out to try and coax my arms to unfold, "Britt, please, we have to actually talk without you storming out every damn time."

"No! I'm done talking to you today."I shuffled away from his hand, my arms tightening even more, until his grip got a little rougher.

"Damn it, Brittany!"

"Uh-uh, don't do that.." Santana growled as she took a step forward towards Sam and I. I watched as Sam's stance faltered slightly even though he was practically _towering _over the bartender, but she must've been giving him a really scary glare to counteract the height difference.

I knew Sam would never get violent with me, his family would hate him forever if he did, but Santana didn't know that. I watched as his eyes left mine and focused in on her until she was tapping a tanned index finger to the back of his hand.

"She said she's done talking today so she obviously doesn't want to talk anymore." She cut in yet again; her voice cool and collected resembling the quiet before a storm, "Hands off, trouty, before it gets real and that's something you _really _don't want."

To my surprise, Sam did as he was told and pulled his hand away at Santana's request.

I watched as Sam walked back inside grumbling about whatever, I didn't care. I just turned back to Santana to see her smiling all confident and triumphant, it was cute. That quickly vanished as she remembered she wasn't the only one outside.

"So yeah, anyway, the pen.." She stammered and held it back out to me.

I just laughed and plucked it from her fingertips anyway, _maybe it was lucky after all?_

"Hey Santana?" I asked after I realized we were kind of just standing there.

"Yeah?"

"Do you, I don't know, do you want to hang out some more?" I asked nervously.

Santana just looked up from wringing out her hands and smiled bashfully, "Sure, Britt."

_Yeah, the pen is definitely lucky_.

* * *

A/N I know you were hoping for Santana to knock Sam's lights out, but I don't think Brittany would've liked that very much..at least, not yet. How'd you like it?


	8. Chapter 8 Unholy Trinity

CHAPTER 8

I don't know what led me to asking Santana to hang out more. It was probably a mixture of not wanting to be in the same room as Sam right now and how Santana looked when she told him off.

Have I said how flustered I get when she's scolding me? Well, seeing her get mean with _other _people multiplies that by like ten. No, wait, make that one hundred! She doesn't need to know that though, she'd probably do it more often. Like I said, I think she secretly likes getting me all worked up like that.

We had been standing there for a few minutes now, silently at that, exchanging glances every now and again like we both wanted to say something but didn't know how to start.

"So.." Santana drawled out as she buried her fists in her jacket pockets.

"So.." I mimicked, turning away from watching a taxi zoom by to catch her biting her bottom lip.

"Where are we headed?" She asked after releasing it from her perfectly straight teeth and then turned to face me and smiled, "You know, since we're _hanging out some more_.."

"Oh, right! Hm, let me think.." I sighed and stared up at the blue sky like the answer was written in the clouds. It wasn't, of course, nothing's ever written in clouds unless it's like a marriage proposal or something but I think that's mostly on tv.

I thought for a minute or two before realizing that I had absolutely no idea what to do. Aside from Santana tagging along with Quinn and I when we'd go have breakfast after work at Rory's a couple times, I hadn't ever done anything outside of work with the girl. The longer I thought about what kind of things she'd be interested in doing, not sex, the more nervous I became.

_What if she thinks something I suggest is stupid?_

"Uhh.." I hummed out mindlessly as the little voice in my head tore through scenario after scenario.

_We could have lunch? Wait, we just ate. Oh no, what if she thinks it's a date? Would she pay or could I? What if she wants to pay separately? What if she doesn't want to have lunch? Wait, didn't she say she had something planned already? Oh crap, am I messing up her schedule? Well, she wouldn't agree to hang out if she was really busy.._

_Maybe hanging out longer wasn't such a good idea?_

"God, you're _really _thinking hard about this..I can practically see the gears turning in that pretty blonde head of yours." She teased, her eyes narrowing at me playfully before letting out a snicker. I felt my face start to flush at being caught, but she didn't seem to notice as she looked at her surroundings.

It was like I was watching her watch something else as she averted her eyes to tall buildings and street signs. I watched how critically she analyzed everything; like her head was piling up everything she saw then broke it down into these neat little stacks of memories, almost like a library, a library of things she's seen.

And man, did she look beautiful doing it! From the tiny crinkles in the corners of her eyes when she squinted up at the street signs, or how she sucked her soft lips in and held them there so tightly pressed like that before slowly releasing slightly swollen and dampened super kissable lips, or the way the breeze shifted her dark brown tresses causing them to fall perfectly _every single time_ like it wasn't possible for Santana's hair to _not _look a complete windblown mess, to the way my heart _always _pounded a little bit harder on the off chance that I got to stare into deep swirly pools of mocha orbs.

Usually, I didn't.

If she's not in the middle of flirting her way into some girl's pants, or mine for that matter, it's rare that she ever makes eye contact. It's like the only time she feels comfortable letting people look is when she's playing a character, after all, that's what I've decided to believe when it comes to flirty Santana. She's just playing a character. Sure, half of that flirting is probably her, but the rest? Smoke and mirrors.

"I think I've got an idea," She grinned confidently, our eyes meeting, but just as quick as I was drawn into those dark brown eyes, I was jerked out.

It was like jumping off a bridge with bungee cords wrapped around my ankles into a big bowl of chocolate mousse; I fell, wind whipping my hair at my cheeks causing them to sting but the pain meant nothing when the end result looked _so fucking delicious_, but just as the tip of my nose dips into chocolaty goodness, like I was about to dive head first and have my whole entire body submerged in the biggest, tastiest, bowl of chocolate mousse ever, the cords tied at my ankles run out of give and I'm being jerked away. Not pulled, not nudged, not tugged, not politely coaxed, but jerked.

That's what it's like to stare into the eyes of Santana Lopez.

"So you gunna put those incredibly long legs to use or..?"

The Santana induced haze cleared from my head in time to see that she was already about five feet away.

"Oh..yeah I'm-uh-yeah.." I rambled and took only three steps before I was quickly rejoining her side.

XXXX

"Woah, what is this place?" I asked, awestruck, as my eyes carried across the glass windows of the corner shop.

"You've never been here?" She questioned, somewhat surprised, "Have you been living under a rock this whole time?"

I just narrowed my eyes playfully at her; she's always picking on me for not _exploring _New York for as long as I've lived here. She huddled somewhat closer to me so that we wouldn't get separated in the hustle and bustle of New York City while my gaze drifted up from a picture of a white unicorn licking a rainbow colored ice cream from a black cone with the words _Big Gay Ice Cream Shop_ printed in white, "It's like..a combination of all my favorite things! Ice cream, rainbows, unicorns..ice cream." I trailed off then turned to her with a smile that pretty much filled my entire face, "How'd you know?"

She just giggled at my giddiness and shrugged casually, "Lucky guess."

I nodded and went to stare higher up the shop to more windows that reflected a billboard on the opposite street.

Wide eyes of excitement quickly turned to confusion as I stared at the reflection with a quirked brow. The windows made the image kind of blurry but the face up there was totally familiar looking. Then realizing that I could just turn around to get a better look, I did, only to find that my assumption was right!

"Hey, is that..is that Rachel?" I questioned and nudged Santana's arm with my elbow as I continued to stare up at the poster.

"Oh God, where?" She rushed out, her head whipping around to scan her surroundings for the shorter brunette.

"Up there," I chuckled at her antics, "On that billboard."

"Ohh.." She trailed off as she looked up to where I was pointing, "Huh, _Funny Girl_. I guess she really _did _make it. She always told Quinn and I that she'd leave Sloppy Babies one day and we'd see her up there."

I glanced down at Santana, surprised that her smile looked genuine. Actually, I was surprised she was smiling at all considering how upset she had gotten the last time her and Rachel were in the same room. Despite all their arguments I witnessed, they had to have cared about each other on some level. Santana looked proud. I wondered if one day I'd see Sam reach some life goal and how I'd react to it, would I look as proud as Santana did.

Then I remembered Sam doesn't really set life goals or _any_ goals for that matter.

"Did you believe her?" I asked as I watched the smile fade from the bartender's lips.

She didn't answer right away, just rolled the thought around in her head for a few seconds. "You know, and I'll deny it if you tell Quinn, but yeah I did." She answered honestly, "Though she can be a Grade A pain in my ass and completely bat shit crazy, Rachel has ambition. If it were anyone else in the world with a dream like hers, I wouldn't think they'd have a snowball's chance in hell. But it's Rachel and the thing about her is that she doesn't give up on what she loves too easily," Santana glanced to me as she wrapped her arms around herself then averted her eyes to the floor, "That can have its pros and cons sometimes.."

I loved the fact that Santana was opening up to me about Rachel because that meant she felt comfortable with me which, just like eye contact, is super rare, but before I could tell myself that I had to be delicate because Santana isn't really an open book, word vomit.

"But..you didn't love her back?"

I watched the way she tensed at the very word and how her jaw tightened and I knew instantly I should've just kept my big mouth closed. I wouldn't be surprised if she cut our little time spent together short and ran far away from me.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that." I rushed out quickly, hoping that I could save this fail of a conversation.

Shockingly, Santana didn't lash out. All she did was drop her arms as she shook her head, the slightest of smirks curling at her lips as she turned back towards the shop she intended to take me in, "You ask too many questions."

XXXX

"Okay, stop looking like that." Santana sighed out of frustration. We had already gotten our orders; I went with the Monday Sundae because I love rhyming while Santana went with the Salty Pimp because it was the only one she hadn't tried yet. We were seated at a corner table facing towards each other, similar to how we were sitting earlier this morning, only this time I wasn't too eager to start the conversation.

But from my super delicious cone of twisted up chocolate and vanilla ice cream and whipped cream, I glanced up at Santana who was practically frowning.

"Stop looking like what?" I pouted, lifting my hand to wipe away any left over ice cream from my chin.

I watched as she shifted back against her chair before shaking her head at my answer, "Like _that_..like someone just kicked your dog or something."

"I don't have a dog." I answered matter-of-factly before taking another swipe at my quickly melting ice cream.

"That's-uh-that's not..whatever." She grumbled though attempting to fight off another grin, "You're just being super quiet and it's creeping me out because you're usually so.."

"Intrusive? Curious? Rude? Nosy?" I listed off in a huff with every lick, not even bothering to look at her.

"Cute."

_That _caused me to look up though and before I could even manage to mumble a, "huh?" she was already smirking and pushing a stack of napkins across the table towards me.

"You've literally got ice cream like _all _over your face," She joked, her giggles making my cheeks feel all hot again, before she shook her head, "But I was actually going to say talkative."

I took a couple napkins and started cleaning off my face, "Well, I kind of have this tendency of asking super personal questions without thinking that might make the other person feel uncomfortable and I hate making people uncomfortable-"

"So not talking at all fixes that?" She asked after taking a long lick up the side of her ice cream, little pieces of chocolate coating falling to the napkins she had laid out strategically in front of her when we sat down.

"Kind of," I shrugged innocently as I went back to my ice cream, "You're not exactly an easy person to talk to.."

"What?" She gasped as she shuffled close enough to the table so she could rest her elbows on it then stared back looking almost offended which I found hilarious, "I'm an easy person to talk to."

Peeking up from my ice cream cone, I lifted an eyebrow, "This is exactly what I mean."

"I don't know what you're talking about," She huffed and started to cross her arms before remembering that she was still holding her cone.

"_That_." I laughed, gesturing to her defensive posture before licking off some ice cream that dripped along my finger, "I feel like you're about to jump me for saying something you don't like."

"No, I'm about to jump you because you keep licking vanilla ice cream off your fingers all seductive and shit." She grumbled as she shifted nervously in her seat, "I've never wanted to be an ice cream cone so bad in my whole life, Brittany, this is horrible!"

"Seriously?" I sputtered out through my shoulder bouncing laughter, "We were having a serious conversation, Santana, then you go and ruin it with your filthy mind."

"Sorry," She smirked in a voice that sounded like she was anything but apologetic as she continued to stare back at me with lusty eyes, "I can't help myself sometimes."

"Now I feel self-conscious eating in front of you," I mumbled deciding that there was no way I could finish my ice cream knowing what kind of image I was setting up for Santana; though I _did _find it a little bit empowering knowing that I could get her just as hot and bothered, "Don't think I'm not onto you..I totally am."

"Whatever do you mean?" She asked super sweetly, her long lashes fluttering as each word left her mouth. The fact that she made eye contact that time too just confirmed my suspicion.

"You resort to flirting when you're nervous."

"What?" She laughed sarcastically as she averted her eyes, "That's ridiculous."

"No it's not," I replied confidently taking note of the loss of eye contact, "You're attractive -"

"You're damn right." Eye contact again.

"We _both _know that," I continued with a quick eye roll because Santana can be so cocky it's crazy, "I think _everyone _knows that and because you know that they know, you find comfort in that."

"In what?" Her eyes were finding the table interesting again.

"Knowing that they know, you know?"

"I know," She agreed hesitantly then ducked her head as she finished off her ice cream, eyes completely focused on eating, "Go on.."

"So when someone's making you nervous, for example: telling you you're not an easy person to talk to, you like to use the confidence you get from your looks to your advantage and draw the unwanted attention away from yourself and turn it into your little flirty comments thus having the poor person completely forget what they were talking about that had you feeling so nervous in the first place." I tried not talking so fast because the more I said aloud, the clearer it all became. I was actually really proud of myself for cracking open the mysterious case of Santana Lopez and her endless flirting.

She hadn't looked at me the entire time I was talking, but I knew she was listening to every word I said by how her lips quirked and the little head shakes she'd do when she didn't agree with something.

"It's pretty sneaky, I'll give you that!" I added and subconsciously pointed my melting ice cream at her for emphasis. I waited anxiously for her to reply, not even bothered that I had completely ruined my vow of silence in order to keep from scaring Santana off with actually calling her out on it.

I think I was still working off the adrenaline of finally figuring everything out, or at least, thinking I did.

"So, what do you have to say?" I asked, leaning on the table causing Santana to finally look up.

"You're dripping," Was her only reply accompanied with the smuggest of grins.

"Santana, that's exactly what I'm ta-"

"No, really..you're dripping," She sighed and grabbed a handful of napkins and ran it up my forearm, "All that talking.."

"Oh!" I gasped and realized my hands were covered in melted ice cream so bad that it started to run down my forearms. I would've felt embarrassed that I got so caught up in talking that I forgot about my ice cream, but then I wouldn't have Santana wiping it off of me so delicately like my arms were made of the fine China.

I would've never thought that I'd find someone wiping melted ice cream off my arms as gently as Santana was currently doing adorable, but I did.

I also would've never contemplated dumping the rest of my melted ice cream cone over the rest of my body just so Santana would have to wipe that off too, but I waved that thought away because that's super kinky.

"Thanks," I managed to mumble as she pulled away, satisfied with her work.

"Yeah," She replied with a stiff nod before tossing out the napkins along with my now soggy ice cream cone.

There's that weird way of accepting _thank you_'s again; what's so hard saying _you're welcome _or _no problem _or something other than _yeah_ or _yup_, like what does that even mean?

As she sat back down, she pulled her phone out from her jacket pocket and smacked her lips.

"What's wrong?" I asked out of curiosity.

"I've got like three missed calls from Quinn," She sighed and started thumbing at the touch screen.

"Ohh," I hummed, not really sure why a lip smack was necessary for that.

"What's today? Wednesday?" She asked, eyes still focused on her phone.

"Yup."

"Huh, that's why.."She lifted the phone to her ear and drummed her fingers at the table while she waited for the ringing to stop."Woah, hello to you too!" She teased as I assume Quinn finally picked up then paused, "Yes, I know what today is." Another pause, "God, you're such a creep and no one would ever guess it." I watched Santana's cheeks pull up at each different grin Quinn coaxed out of her when suddenly her smile faltered slightly, "It was fine." Then another, "Yes. Okay. Yes. I know..I don't need the talk again." She as starting to get frustrated, I could tell from how harsh her voice was getting but I couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about, "She's with me right now for your information, would you like to talk to her?" There was another pause, this one longer than the others, as I watched the grin slowly find its way back to Santana's lips, "Uh-huh, that's what I thought. But yeah, I'll ask her. Okay, bye."

"Quinn?" I asked as Santana tucked her phone away.

"Quinn." She nodded, "I'm supposed to meet up with her soon for this thing we do on Wednesdays, but I forgot. Actually no, I didn't forget. I just found something better to do." I pressed my lips tightly together at the thought that Santana would rather hang out with me than Quinn because I was the _better thing to do_, "Q's my homegirl though so I kinda have to do it still.."

"Ohh, yeah, I understand." I nodded, already slipping my jacket back on to leave. Sam probably gone to work now so the coast is clear to head on home.

"Cool, so you'll go with us then?"

"Wait, what?" I deadpanned as Santana stood up too.

"Quinn wanted you to come with us, you know, since we're all _friends_ and stuff." She joked with a bump of her hip to mine, "She's into all that bonding shit."

"Oh, yeah! Sure!" I agreed without even asking what it was that I was doing with them. I kind of was just super excited that I was being included; I never really had that happen before.

"Great, well, you'll need to wear all black.." She added and did a quick sweep of my body with her eyes, "Your jeans are dark enough but I might need to lend you a jacket, Quinn gets really.._particular_ about wearing dark colors. I've got an extra one in my car though. Come on!"

"Wait, Santana.." I called after her feeling anxious all of a sudden. She stopped mid-step and turned to me with raised brows while I shuffled closer to her and looked around nervously before speaking, "Are we robbing a bank?"

"In the middle of the afternoon like this?" She asked, her voice light and airy, as she grinned, "Britt, we'd get caught in like a minute." Then she was out the door leaving me standing there dumbfounded.

XXXX

"Well..I feel silly."

"You shouldn't," Santana chuckled as I stared up at the sign that read _Q-Zar_. I actually didn't feel _all _that silly because I was currently wrapped up in one of Santana's extra sweaters she kept in her car that smelled like her cinnamon air freshener and her. It was pretty awesome.

"I thought we were robbing a bank.."I laughed, "We're just playing lazer tag..I feel reall, really silly."

"Well," Santana sighed, "We're all in this together, you can thank Quinn."

I glanced over at the bartender with a slowly growing smile, "High School Musical is one of my favorite singing movies ever."

"High school what?" She asked, confused as she scanned the parking lot then looked down at her phone again, "You'd think she'd be here by now considering she was all up on my ass about not forgetting.."

"Musical, you know, with that really hot girl from Friends With Benefits and that other guy from Mean Girls that everyone had a crush on? They get together and sing songs about being in a threesome."

Santana's head shot up from her phone as her face contorted into the cutest looks of utter confusion, "What?"

"Crap, sorry, I should've said spoiler alert or something. But yeah, _we're all in this together_..totally about a threesome." I shrugged casually causing Santana to cough up a laugh.

"I don't think they'd have a songs like that on Disney Channel, Britt. Also, I think you're confusing Vanessa Hudgens with Mila Kunis." She suggested gently like she was attempting to not hurt my feelings but I ended up smiling triumphantly anyway.

"So you _do _know what I'm talking about?"

"Uhh.."

"You don't have to lie, Santana."

"I'm not!"

"It's your favorite movie I bet, I knew it."

"It's definitely not."

"Uh-huh.."

I was smirking at how embarrassed Santana was getting, but before I could further my teasing, Quinn was walking up dressed in all black. It was weird seeing her out of her usual sundresses and evening gowns, but even in black jeans and a black vneck she still looked good!

"Hey girls!" She waved happily as she jogged the rest of the way to us.

"Fucking finally, let's get this over with." Santana grumbled as she went to open the door for all of us. I gestured for Quinn to walk in before me, but instead she ducked behind me..almost like she was hiding.

"Do you see him?" She whispered but Santana just scoffed and pushed her a little so she'd keep walking.

"Of course I do, he's here every Wednesday, now quit hiding. You're freaking out Britt." Santana teased and made Quinn go back to standing up straight.

"What's going on?" I whispered to Santana as I watched Quinn subtly fix her hair while her eyes scanned the service counter. The place was practically dead, the only sounds that being the music playing from the various arcade games, and a handful of guys trying to sign up for the next match.

"There he is, oh God, how do I look?" Quinn asked anxiously as she turned to face us.

Like always, she looked flawless. It was kind of annoying how she couldn't look anything but it! She probably wakes up that way too, ugh.

"Who?" I asked, confused but Santana just laughed at how Quinn was acting.

"You do this every time, Q, I don't get it." She snickered, "You're fucking angelic, he doesn't stand a chance. Now go talk to the guy, we'll wait here."

"What guy?" I asked and tried looking around for some Dave Franco look-alike because the person had to be super handsome to have _Quinn_ acting so nervous like she was.

"Him, behind the counter..the Asian one." Santana replied then lifted her chin in the direction of the service counter, "Quinn's got the hots for him, like bad."

I watched as Quinn waltzed up to the counter, smiling her best smile up at the guy who in turn was smiling just as hard. We were too far away to hear anything they were saying, but I knew Quinn just had to be working her charm. It was funny because the guy didn't look nearly intimidating enough to have Quinn so nervous, I mean, it's Quinn. She's a Babysitter and she sings almost every night in front of people yet this guy in a dingy red polo uniform shirt had her stuttering? I continued to watch and couldn't help but find the whole scene adorable. I would've never pegged Quinn as someone who had crushes on people, mainly because she's freaking Quinn Fabray, but there she is..blushing and swooning at whatever the Asian was saying.

"That's cute." I cooed after watching the two interact.

"Eh, I guess. It loses its touch after the fourth Wednesday in a row." Santana shrugged just as Quinn called us over, "That was quick."

"Hey Santana!" The guy waved as we walked up.

"Boy Chang." She nodded back causing Quinn to swat at her arm out of his sight, "What?"

"You're embarrassing."

"You're pathetic."

"I'm Brittany!" I piped in, successfully wiggling in between the two bantering girls and stuck my hand out to him.

"Mike, nice to meet you." He replied politely then looked to Quinn, "You want to go with your usual team name or change it? The Terrible Two doesn't quite fit since there's three of you."

"Terrible Two?" I smirked, looking back at Santana who was trying hard not to smile.

"Oh, very true!" Quinn hummed and turned to Santana, "San, we can finally use the three person one!" Then Quinn looked to me with a proud smile, "Santana is _very _creative."

"I was drunk..it's not even a good one." Santana chuckled but Quinn was already pulling the paper towards her. I peeked over her shoulder to see our names under the players list and her just finish writing our team name:

_Unholy Trinity_

"So, how many rounds today?" Mike asked as he took the paper back.

"Just one," Quinn grinned, "We've got work in a couple hours."

"Okay cool," Mike nodded as he started organizing the paperwrk, "What do you do?"

"I'm a Babysitter." Quinn smirked while Santana practically face palmed.

"Oh, really?" Mike asked, his brow quirking as he looked to the three of us, "All of you?"

"Yup," Quinn answered as he turned his back to us to grab something. I watched as Quinn nudged at Santana's arm again then held out her hand, "Give me one.."

"I don't have any," Santana whispered.

"What? But you always carry them.." Quinn gasped.

"Well, I'm not carrying any today."

"Don't tell me you're actually going to try what I suggested.."

Santana just rolled her eyes, "Britt probably has some."

"Awh, I'm proud!" Quinn teased then looked to me with her hand held out, "Can I have one?"

"Sure," I shrugged and clapped my hand over hers quickly.

"Uhh..I meant Sloppy Baby matches." She smirked, "Not a high five."

"Oh! I knew that." I snickered and dug around in my pockets for a booklet, "That was a low five by the way."

Quinn just laughed and accepted the matches, "Thanks Britt!"

"Well, babysitters..that's cool!" Mike nodded as he turned back around.

"Yeah, maybe you can drop by sometime?" Quinn smiled as she slid the set of matches smoothly across the countertop.

"Ohh, _that _kind of babysitter.." Mike blushed as he took the matches, "Y-yeah, sure!"

Quinn just smirked and led Santana and I towards the _briefing room_ where we'd learn the rules or whatever and get our vests and lazer guns.

"How was that? You'll think he'll come?" Quinn asked anxiously as she situated the vest on her shoulders, "It wasn't too much, right?"

"Nah, he'll definitely come," Santana nodded encouragingly as she did her own clasps at her side.

"Totally." I agreed as I checked out my cool lazer gun.

"Yeah, like, all over the place when he hears you sing." Santana added just as the doors rose and the fog rolled into the room.

"Ugh, Santana!" Was all that Quinn shrieked before the three of us rushed out into the darkness, zapping other players and taking names.

Who would've thought Quinn ended up getting the high score?

Santana says Quinn thinks high scoring on a game is the ultimate way to a man's heart which explains a lot considering I didn't even _try _to lay video games with Sam. Oh well, lots of things about me and Sam are starting to make more sense the longer I'm around Santana anyway.

XXXX

After lazer tag, Quinn said that she'd trust us out for coffee since none of us took our necessary naps before work and we probably need the caffeine boost. Santana was all up for coffee since Quinn was paying, as Santana would say _free anything is the best kind_, while I just tagged along again, loving how welcomed they made me feel.

"Soy Hazelnut Latte for," Quinn peered down at the scribbled handwriting on the cup, "Satan."

"Very funny!" Santana laughed sarcastically, pointing over to the barista who I assumed they both knew, before she took the cup Quinn was handing her then mumbled, "Asshole.."

"A Caramel Frap with no whip for me."

"No whip?" Santana smirked as she wrapped her fingers around her cup, "Poor Mike."

Quinn just rolled her eyes then smiled to me as she handed me my cup, "Double Chocolate Chip Frap with extra whip for Britt." Then she looked over her shoulder as she sat down, "Poor Satan."

Santana just chuckled and after taking a sip she stated, "I see no problem with a little whip..especially when it's Brittany."

All the innuendos finally clicked in my head and I was joining them in their immature joking. After we had settled down a little, Quinn went on asking about our days. I didn't realize that she hadn't known Santana had spent pretty much the entire day together until hazel eyes flickered from mine to Santana then to mine again.

"Wait, she took you out for ice cream?" Quinn asked, shifting back in her wire chair.

"Yup, it was awesome!" I replied cheerfully and swirled my straw around in the whipped cream, "I'd never been to Big Gay Ice Cream before, it wasn't nearly as gay as I thought it would be though.."

"We're talking about Santana..right?" Quinn questioned like she couldn't believe it, "Like Queen Bitch Santana?"

"Watch it, Fabray.."

"Santana's not a bitch.." I pouted as I pulled out my straw successfully covered in thick whipped cream and lifted it to my lips then caught Santana watching me and decided I'd stick the straw back in, "Maybe super defensive at times but definitely not a bitch.."

"Right, of course," Quinn nodded with a smirk on full display then turned to Santana, "How come you don't take _me _to Big Gay Ice Cream?"

"Because you're not gay?" Santana shrugged and tapped her fingers at her cup.

"You don't have to be gay to go, do you?" I asked quietly, leaning over to Santana but she just smiled and shook her head.

"Well, besides Santana taking everyone out for ice cream except me what else have I missed?"

"I've only taken Brittany, crazy."

"Even better!" Quinn grinned then shook her head, "I mean worse, even _worse_."

I watched the two have this weird stare down thing like they were doing some sort of telepathic conversation before speaking up, "Well, Santana met Sam."

"Oh God, how'd that go.."

"He wasn't really pleased that I hadn't returned his calls all night.." I sighed, "We had another argument again."

"Britt..you _need_to move out." Quinn begged but she was preaching to the choir on that one.

"I know, I've almost saved up enough." I shrugged as she turned to Santana.

"Did you behave?"

"It was hard, I automatically did not like the dude.." Santana huffed with the shake of her head.

"You didn't hit him, did you?" Quinn gasped as she whipped her head to the bartender. Santana stared smirking and hid her lips behind the lid of her coffee, "Santana..you didn't."

"Of course not." Santana laughed making Quinn let out a sigh of relief, "I'm still on probation."

"No way, really?" I gasped then lowered my voice as I scooted closer to her, "What'd you do?"

"Secret." She winked back while Quinn just shook her head.

"She's lying, Britt, don't believe her..or anything about Lima Heights Adjacent. They're all lies."

"Hey, what happens in Lima Heights stays in Lima Heights."

"Lime Heights isn't even a real place!"

"Oh, it's real. It's very real.." Santana replied gravely.

"Whatever," Quinn waved off and stared back at me, "I actually have a fried that work real estate. I can give you her card and make sure to tell her to give you a hook up. No worries, Britt."

"Please don't tell me you're talking about Sugar.." Santana sighed as she lifted her fingers to rub at her brow.

"What? What's wrong with Sugar?" Quinn huffed as she dug around in her purse for a business card then looked to me, "She's a nice girl."

"She's a freaking psycho." Santana amended, "Don't put Brittan through that."

"Sugar isn't a psycho, Santana, you're being dramatic." Quinn grumbled and passed me the business card.

I turned it over in my fingertips, admiring the girl's smiling face as I read the card.

"Brittany, burn it..burn it while you've still got the chance." Santana implored.

"Little Miss Sweetheart over here is just bitter because Sugar tried making it- what do you call it, Santana?- a two time thing."

"Oh God, that's not it.." Santana sighed and hid her face in her hands while Quinn and I snickered at the bartender's embarrassment.

"Well, I'm sure Sugar is.." I trailed off trying to find the right word to describe someone I've never met, "I'm sure Sugar is sweet!" Santana lifted her face from her hands to show that she was laughing just as hard as Quinn now; I only shrugged and tucked the card away, "We should probably get going, we've got thirty minutes to get to Sloppy Babies."

Then as we gathered our jackets and empty coffee cups and started heading into opposite directions, Quinn to her car while I followed Santana to hers, I couldn't help but feel even closer to the two, like I was finally starting to figure out where I belonged in a place that often moved way too fast for me.

And where I belonged was right in the center of The Terrible Two, a friendship that I'd soon come to love as the Unholy Trinity.

* * *

A/N I've never actually been to Big Gay Ice Cream Shop or Q-Zar so forgive me if something is off: my AU, my rules. LOL Also, I kind of secretly like Mike and Quinn together (Fabang is the weakest ship name ever) so if you don't like it, no worries..they're a minor thing. Anyway, let me know! Next chapter will be pretty action packed!


	9. Chapter 9 Don't be a Hero

CHAPTER 9

"So then after the grocery store we went back to her house to finish the rest of the show, it was great!" I replied happily as I casually stabbed at the salad I was having for lunch while Quinn just stared at me with this weird, perplexed look on her face. She's pretty much had that look the whole time I was telling her how my weekend went with Santana.

"Wait, you guys went grocery shopping together?" She gasped.

"Well, I wouldn't really call it _grocery _shopping since we only picked up like one thing.."

"But she went with you to a place that sold groceries and together you bought groceries?"

I scrunched my nose at the funny way she asked about stuff but answered anyways, "No, I paid for it. I just don't see how you can go through an Orange is the New Black marathon without having prison-like food."

"And what exactly is _prison-like_ food?" Quinn giggled as she dipped her spoon into her bowl of tomato soup.

"I have no idea, but I feel like pudding cups.."

"So Santana left her home, on her day off and in the middle of a tv show marathon, for pudding cups?" She questioned as her brow rose expectantly.

"Yeah..she said she didn't mind, I asked." I answered then shrugged my shoulders, "Plus, I didn't want to get lost."

"And you were there the _whole _weekend?"

"Not the _whole entire_ weekend," I muttered around my forkful of baby spinach, "I went home to sleep and stuff."

"That's interesting," Quinn smirked and went back to sipping on her soup.

"What is?"

"Santana," She answered, "She hates doing domestic things like grocery shopping, I can barely get her to come out with me, yet she left with you just for pudding cups."

"They were delicious pudding cups."

Quinn just smiled warmly at me before shaking her head, "How many weekends in a row is this now? Four?"

"Three!" I grinned cheerfully. It was definitely a welcomed change from spending my days off at home alone or trying to dodge Sam before he leaves for work. Weekends with Santana made me feel so much better because she was such good company, we didn't really have to do anything big to have fun either, we just hung out together and it was great.

"Wow, three? That's like her longest relationship ever already!" She teased causing me to almost choke on a crouton.

"We're-we're not dating."

"I know that," She laughed, "I was just saying. Santana doesn't usually have an easy time making friends."

"But she has you.."

"We've always been two ends of the same bitch-goddess spectrum." Quinn shrugged like it was obvious.

"And Rachel?"

I watched the smile fall from the other blonde's lips at the girl's mention, "Rachel was just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, I love Santana, she's my best friend but the girl is a complete dumbass when it comes to her feelings and everyone else's for that matter." I instantly felt my body tense at hearing such a negative thing about one of my close friends, but I knew Quinn was probably right considering Santana's track record with girls. "Rachel fell hard, like really hard, and Santana had no idea what to do. She strung her along until she got bored and one night she just shut Rachel out completely, sticking her right in the friendzone like nothing ever happened. Rachel was pissed, obviously, and hurt because of the whole thing and Santana couldn't deal with it."

"Oh," Was all that left my lips as the story tapered off. I felt a little wrong talking about Santana's love life without her present, but something told me that even if she was here, she wouldn't be so eager to talk about it. She's such a guarded person but that makes her all the more interesting.

"Yeah, so with that being said, I want you to be careful."

"Huh?" I gasped, my eyes darting up to hers.

She only pursed her lips and gave me that _I know you know what I'm talking about _look, "I know you like her, Britt, it's not surprising because lots of girls like Santana." She chuckled then turned serious, "But you're my friend, one of the greatest friends ever, and I don't want you to get your feelings hurt because of her. She's a great person under that rocky exterior but I know how she can get and I don't want that to happen to you, you're too good of a person for that."

I wanted to defend Santana, I don't know why, I just did. I may not have known her for as long as Quinn has, but I couldn't see her treating me anything like the other girls. Maybe it was because we weren't even dating, weren't even sleeping together! It was sweet for Quinn to be looking out for me like she was, but it gave me the impression that she didn't believe Santana was capable of having an actual relationship and that just made me sad. It seemed like there wasn't anyone that believed Santana was capable of having an actual relationship.

"Well, I appreciate that." I replied after rolling over what Quinn said in my head, "But I don't need to worry about it because she doesn't like me back. We're just friends and I think that's fine. I'm fine with being _just friends _with Santana, Q."

"Right, of course," She answered but her tone didn't sound too convincing, "Just please be careful with her."

I grinned back at the worry etched in her facial features and reached across the table to squeeze on her hand, "Careful's my middle name."

XXXX

It was a typical Saturday afternoon when I decided to head into Sloppy Babies a little earlier than usual because it seemed that Sam came home early. I was _not _trying to deal with that awkwardness because things between have been rockier since the night I slept over Santana's and I'm just tired of dealing with it. My money is starting to look right though; I've told Dad that I didn't need him paying for my half anymore so I feel like an actual adult now. It's still tough paying my half of the rent as well as saving for my own place because the bar doesn't pay me all that well but that was expected since the place doesn't make nearly enough as it should which is surprising. I'm no stranger to hard work so I don't mind it, at least I'm not chasing after dancing gigs only to have my hopes crushed!

Upon entering the lounge, I saw Puck chatting with a couple other bodyguards near the hostess counter. They nodded their greetings to me as I waved at them before stepping down the slopped stairs to head towards the bar to see if Santana was there already. She usually has to be early anyway to check inventory and what not, she'd probably be happy I was here; she might actually let me help.

"Hey Britt!" Santana greeted, her breath coming out in slight pants, as she came toddling out of the storage room with a wooden crate in her arms, "You're kinda early."

"Yeah, I know.." I nodded and took a step back to get out of her way, "Sam came home early."

"Ohhh," She drawled out then set the crate down on the floor before standing straight up and twisting her back. It was then that I noticed she wasn't in uniform yet, but in dark blue jeans and a dingy looking cotton tank top. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun with a red bandana wrapped around it making her look kinda like the lady off that old 'We Can Do It' poster. All she had to do was flex and she would've nailed it! "Well, I'm just making sure we're all set for tonight, Sue has this weird idea that we'll be slammed tonight but I'm not so sure. I hope we are though, God knows we definitely need the money."

I watched as she pulled out a piece of tattered cloth from behind her back then dabbed it at her sweat-glistening forehead. I don't know what it was about the whole scene, but I found it increasingly harder to breathe. Shaking the naughty thoughts that started pouring in, I found my voice, "Do you need any help?"

"You wanna get all dirty and sweaty with me?" She smirked as she tucked the cloth away, her eyes finding mine only further validating my theory on her and eye contact.

I almost blurted my honest answer, that being _oh hell yes please_, because it's been such a long time and I have needs too, but instead I just laughed and shook my head at her incessant flirting, "No, I wanna help you move crates if you need me to."

"Boo, no fun!" She pouted playfully then spun around to the storage room and waved her hand for me to follow, "I've only got a few more left."

I nodded and followed after her obediently, picking up what she asked me to and walking it out to the bar and setting it where she wanted. I was surprised that they were actually pretty heavy; I was kind of struggling with it, while Santana heaved them up and set them down like it was nothing. Then again, maybe it's just me and how out of shape I've gotten since I haven't been dancing as much as I used to.

"Ugh, that was my work out for the day." I huffed teasingly as I set the last box down then straightened out my back.

"Tired already?" She chuckled and started cracking open the tops of the crates.

"Maybe.. those things are heavy!" I muttered breathlessly, "I don't see how you can do it so easily when you're so tiny."

Her brow quirked as she smirked up at me then went to flex her left arm, "Don't get these babies from flipping tv channels."

"Could've fooled me!" I laughed considering we mostly watch tv at her house whenever we hang out but couldn't help but linger on how just toned her arms were.

"Oh, shut up!" She giggled and gestured for the crate she had popped open, "Start putting these bottles out and I'll work on the other one."

XXXX

As the night went on, Santana and I quickly realized that we should never doubt Sue and her weird hunches when it comes to the place being slow or busy. Just an hour after opening and we're already almost at full capacity! It was a strange thing because it wasn't any special occasion or holiday; we were just busy as hell.

"You good, Britt?" Santana called from her end of the bar as we both attempted to take orders and fill up the waitresses' trays when they came through. It was a tough task, being spread so thin like I was, but I made it work.

"Yup, you?" I yelled back being sure to throw in a confident smile as well.

"Always," She joked then threw a bottle of tequila in the air and caught it with her left hand before moving to pour out about seven shots. I was proud to see that she was back to using her spit bottle after my sad attempt at persuading her to quit.

Well, I guess it wasn't all that sad considering that she _did _put a stop to her drinking on the job after all. Also, I hadn't seen her leave with some girl in awhile but I'm thinking it's just because there really haven't been any _that _cute to leave with.

She still flirts though, I actually don't think she knows how to do anything else but flirt when it comes to customers.

"Hey doll face, can I get some service over here!" A customer snarled as he waved some cash in the air impatiently and stared at Santana.

"Don't call me that and you can wait just like everyone else over here," She snapped though her voice was velvety sweet and pretty much made all the guys in front of her swoon at the sound. I smirked and shook my head as I popped the caps off a couple beers, only Santana could talk to a customer in such a rude way and not have to pay price for it!

I wanted to walk her way, maybe start calling her doll face seeing how pissed she got from it, but we were too busy for us to even glance to each other.

XXXX

Another hour later, I couldn't even hear Quinn singing because it had gotten so loud at the counter that with so many people everywhere and orders being called mixed in with the little voice in my head reminding me of my counts and who ordered what and how much what costs felt had me feeling like I was starting to slip. Everything was so freaking fast paced that I started getting behind on my drink orders for the waitresses' because I was too busy trying to please the customers in front of me.

I just kept thinking _Rule #4: Keep the customers entertained_ and I had a hard time deciding which set of customers needed to be entertained quicker: the ones closest to me or the ones out in the seating area.

I tried doing both, I tried so hard because I didn't want to disappoint Santana who has probably done this _alone _before, but I knew I was losing it when I accidently dropped a bottle of Jim Beam.

When the alcohol stops flowing, people get angry.

"No worries, Britt, just sweep the glass towards the counter and I'll call someone over to clean it up." Santana called when the sound of glass shattering echoed around us.

"I'm so sorry, I'll-I'll pay to replace it! I'm sorry!" I replied already feeling the lump form in my throat. I felt so damn embarrassed and I hated it! It brought back all those feelings from when I got turned down for my last dancing gig and I just wanted to curl up and cry.

"Hey, I said it's okay." Santana cooed and pressed her hand to my back softly then smiled, "Don't worry about it, shit happens, just focus on the customers. I'll get the mess."

I nodded and went to take another order when the sudden loss of stage lights caught my attention. Santana was still somewhere near me with a broom while I tried doing two things at once: take a drink order and figure out what was happening on stage.

The only time the stage is completely dark like that is when we aren't open.

"Oh fuck, what's going on over there?" Santana gasped as she looked up to see the stage and Quinn looking around nervously.

"I don't know, the lights just cut off, I can't hear her either." I replied as mindlessly took money and stored it in the cash register, "I think the mic got cut too."

With me being the only one really serving the customers because Santana was too busy cleaning up my mess, customers began getting rowdy. They were already a little rowdy in the first place, but _this_? This was scary. This was madness.

I tried moving as fast as I could, but it just wasn't enough and one grumpy guy getting accidently (or purposely, I don't know) shoved led to another guy getting bumped into and the next thing I know is three or four guys swinging at one another.

"Uh Santana, we've got a problem.." I squeaked when the fight started to escalate.

"Huh? Oh hell no!" She gasped when one of the guys had picked up a bar stool and smashed it against the other's back causing shards of splintered wood to fly everywhere.

"What do we-SANTANA! What are you doing?!" I watched as the bartender climbed up on the counter with a bucket filled with ice then tried dumping it on the group. She was so fearless up there, taking charge of the situation like that, I almost forgot that we were in the middle of a problem.

Now that there was a different form of entertainment, the people standing by the bar were drawn into the fight: some more interested in others. The ones that weren't just left the lounge completely and that wasn't good at all!

The ice bucket seemed to work for a few seconds, but then we had an even bigger problem: the guys closest to the bar were within arms' length of Santana's ankles.

"Britt, press the button!" She yelled as she was quickly drug down into the crowd.

"Santana!" I shrieked while guys swarmed her. I was so caught between helping Santana and pressing the security button that I hadn't realized my body already made the decision for me.

"No Britt, get behind the bar!" Santana snapped as she tried her hardest to keep the customers' hands from grabbing on her.

"Grab my hand!" I shouted back as I tried to keep close enough to the counter so I wouldn't get pulled out by the unruly crowd.

"Damnit Brittany, get back!" She growled again, clearly pissed off, but I couldn't be swayed. I couldn't hide behind the bar while my _friend _is out there in danger, hell no!

I could just barely see the top of Puck's head come into view as he and a handful of other bouncers came in to break up the fight. I was glad that I didn't have to press the button in order for them to help; I was hoping that Santana was right and that Puck was keeping an eye out anyway.

"Grab my hand!" I called yet again to Santana and reached out my hand to her as far as I could but there were too many people in the way. Only two bodies separated her from me and I'd be damned if I was going to let them get in the way of me reaching her.

I could hardly hear her throwing insults over the roar of the crowd, but I knew it was only a matter of time before something even worse happens. I was focusing so hard on how I could possibly get around the two guys separating us that I didn't notice the unwanted hand grabbing on me then an arm tugging me into a sweaty body.

"Get off me!" I screamed and tried shoving at the guy's chest but his grip only tightened in response. I could smell the whiskey wafting off him and cringed at the scent. I tried elbowing him in the nose, or anywhere for that matter, but his grip around my arms was so tight that I could barely move! I was still trying to keep an ear out for Santana, but when I didn't hear her anymore I grew worried.

It wasn't that _I _was in danger, but that Santana could be somewhere on the floor getting trampled or some guy was doing the same to me to her. I couldn't imagine it, the thought made me sick.

"Hey!" Santana yelled, suddenly much closer than just seconds ago, before her tiny fist collided with the man's jaw.

"Oh my God!" I gasped as the guy basically slumped backwards while Santana just grabbed her left hand and cursed. I lunged for her before anyone else could, my arms wrapping around her as she clutched her hand to her chest.

"I told you to stay behind the fucking bar, Brittany!" She scolded though her voice was cracking from nerves all over the place.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" I mumbled though I really wasn't then looked down at the hand she was cradling, "Are you okay?"

She didn't answer, just leaned her forehead against me.

_We needed to get back behind the bar and we needed to do it quick!_

Before I knew what I was doing, I had slipped my arms around Santana's back and under her thighs and I was pushing past the crowd to get back to the counter. I know I was complaining earlier that those crates I was helping Santana move were heavy, and I'm sure Santana weighed more than any little crate, but it definitely didn't feel that way when I was carrying her. At the moment, I could probably carry about _ten_ Santanas!

As soon as I reached the counter, I set her down on top of it and swiftly jumped over so I could help her down on the other side. Things were still hectic: the crowd only half controlled and the stage still experiencing technical difficulties and on top of all that, we were losing money too! People were walking out left and right and though that was less people we had to deal with starting fights, we needed their business.

With the bar temporarily down because there was no way the waitresses were coming over to place customers' drink orders and Quinn still running around on stage trying to figure out what the hell was happening, we needed a freaking miracle!

My brain went a million miles a minute trying to figure out something when I realized I was trying way too hard when the answer was right there the whole time! To me, it's always been the answer to everything when finding one seems impossible.

And it just so happens that I'm super awesome at it.

"I got an idea," I told Santana as she wrapped her hand in a wet towel.

With a quick text to a number I was actually thankful Santana got from banging this one girl, everything quickly fell into place.

XXXX

I ascended the counter once again, only this time, I wasn't jumping into the crowd. The band started up on the first beats of Joan Jett's Do You Wanna Touch. The sound of drums was what grabbed everyone's attention at first, but what kept their attention was me beginning to move.

When it came to dancing, I knew how to play a crowd. I knew exactly what to do to have them begging for more, how to flip my hair, and how to drop down low and slap my thighs. I knew just what a slow roll of the hips could do to people, how popping my chest in and out could have grown men's jaws drop, and how hypnotizing a sexily placed hand could be to the audience and I milked every last drop of it!

Soon the sounds of angry customers were replaced with people singing along to the music though the lyrics were missing. Seeing that my plan was working, I danced harder, determined to prove that I could hold my own in a time of crisis. I tried to stay in character through the song though my excitement was starting to overtake me a little.

I didn't realize I had missed dancing in front of a crowd until I was up and doing it. It felt amazing and even better because the crowd had completely calmed, the last of the unruly guests already being directed out by the bouncers, and the stage lights were back on.

Though everything seemed to be back in order, everyone's eyes remained on me. Even Quinn was watching proudly from center stage and somewhere below I could feel Santana doing the same.

As the song finished and I ended my impromptu performance in the splits, the entire place cheered for me including the waitresses and the bouncers! The only person that didn't look nearly as happy was Sue, but she doesn't usually ever look happy. I attempted to contain my giddiness as I stood back up and took my bow before hopping down to rejoin Santana.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Santana gasped, her eyes wide and jaw dropped a little still, "You never said you could dance like that!"

I just shrugged bashfully and kicked at the floor, "It's kind of my thing."

"And what a fucking magical thing it is!" She cheered and pulled me into the first hug she had ever initiated like..ever. I could feel the cold, wet towel brush against my bare shoulder as she pulled away from me. It was a quick hug, but it totally happened.

XXXX

By closing time, everyone was completely beat! I loved how all my coworkers dropped by the bar, where Santana and I were already trying to put back together, and shared how awesome they thought my performance was. It was so sweet of everyone and it was definitely missed considering the last time I danced for an audience was when I was turned down one of the biggest opportunities ever!

By the time Quinn could make it over to us, most of the waitresses had left already.

"Oh my God, Britt! Girl, you can dance!" Quinn laughed and wrapped me up in a hug that lasted longer than most, "I was so damn scared when that fight broke out, I just saw you and Santana and I wanted so bad to run over here and help you guys."

"I know, Q.." I sighed and rubbed at the girl's back when I heard the faintest of crack's in her voice, "We managed though." She pulled away and smiled sweetly as she looked to Santana.

"I saw you knock out that guy who was nearly twice your size," She smirked and pulled her into a hug too, "You still on _probation_?"

"I'm going to call that one self defense," Santana grinned tiredly then glanced over at me and for the first time since the incident she didn't look like she was angry with me, "Or _Britt_ defense."

Quinn just laughed then pulled each of us to her in another hug, "I'm so glad you guys are safe." Her voice was so soft and sincere that if we all hadn't been pressed up against one another, we probably wouldn't even have heard her, "I'm gunna go now, see you guys Tuesday." She waved and once again Santana and I were alone.

XXXX

"Is your hand okay?" I asked quietly when I caught Santana wince when she tried lifting a plastic crate full of glasses. She just huffed and carried them away without answering.

Since the whole fight scene, Santana had been pretty upset. At first I thought it was just because she as in pain, but every time I tried helping her she'd snap at me. The only time she wasn't itching to bite my head off was after my little dance where she was super proud then after five minutes it was like she remembered she was supposed to be pissed off and quickly turned that back on.

I followed after her anyway just to make sure she didn't accidently drop the crate or anything, but she didn't. It wasn't until we were both out by the bar where I was mopping and she was wiping down the counter, much to my protest, that she finally said something.

"You know I'm fucking furious with you right now, right?" She bit after the second time I tried getting her to stop using her hand.

"I got that much, yeah.." I sighed and rested my chin on the tip of the mop handle, "I said I was sorry so many times already, Santana, and I feel so bad about your hand. None of it would've happened if I-"

"You did exactly what I told you _not _to do, Brittany." She huffed and slapped the dirty dish towel at the counter and turned to me, "I told you never,_ never_ involve yourself in a bar fight. You press the security button and that's fucking it. You don't jump down and help, you don't try to be a hero."

"Santana-"

"No, I'm not finished!"

I just looked down at the floor because looking at Santana who was clearly disappointed in me was way too hard to look at.

"You realize you could've been seriously hurt tonight?"She asked, her voice softening a little as she pushed away from the counter and walked closer to me, "Some asshole could've accidently hit you or you could've fallen and gotten trampled. Do you know what I would do if something bad like that were to happen to you, Britt?"

I swallowed nervously and shrugged my shoulders helplessly.

"Me neither." She whimpered and I swore it sounded like she was about to cry. She focused her eyes on trying to fix her makeshift wrap for her hand, "I have no idea."

"I'm sorry, Santana." I sighed for the millionth time that night.

"God, you were so fucking lucky." She laughed sarcastically and shook her head down at her left hand while the right continued to keep the towel from falling off.

"I know, I know.."

I watched as she got frustrated with the towel falling off and threw it angrily at the floor and muttered, "Fucking piece of shit!"

"Here, let me help you."

"You've done enough, thanks!" She snapped again but it seemed like she was way too tired to put up that kind of fight for too long.

"Santana, please." I sighed and motioned for her to sit down on an up turned crate. Surprisingly, she did as she was told and slumped down wearily while I moved to grab the first aid kit. I brought it over to her and dropped to my knees and rummaged through the kit for surgical tape, gauze, and some peroxide.

Once I had gotten everything out and ready, I reached for her hand only to have her flinch away. I looked up to see her eyes closed and her pressing her injured hand to her chest, cradling it almost.

"San.." I cooed and tried reaching for her wrist. Slowly, she let me pull her hand away revealing three of her knuckles covered in remnants of dried blood, swollen and already changing colors to match the soon-to-be bruises, and the skin torn away and peeling from each knuckle. I was so surprised at how much damage one punch could have and I wished nothing more than to take all the pain from her.

I sprawled her fingers out carefully in my palm before laying flat against her knee so I could unscrew the cap of the peroxide bottle.

"Fuck, that stings!" She hissed at the sensation the cool liquid gave her as I poured it over her knuckles, the cuts bubbling as the chemicals did their job. I didn't say a thing, just gingerly placed her hand in mine again then blew softly at her cuts hoping that it'd reduce some of the pain. I looked up as I blew to see the worry wrinkles slowly disappear from the bartender's forehead and I knew that the trick had to have worked.

After the bubbles fizzled, I reached for the gauze and started carefully placing the piece over her busted knuckles making sure that I didn't press to firmly but just enough so it wouldn't move when I started to wrap the surgical tape around it.

"Mmm," She winced when I accidently brushed against the cut just on the edge of the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry, honey.." I whispered; my eyes so focused on not making any more mistakes that I hadn't really noticed the term of endearment fall from my lips. I finished wrapping up her hand seconds later and though the cuts were out of sight, I still felt bad that I was the cause of them.

She wouldn't have been in pain like this if I hadn't done what she told me to do in the first place. Then again, this is nothing compared to what _could've _happened to her too.

"I'm sorry for being a bitch earlier, I was just-"She trailed off as she lifted her right hand and ran her fingers over my handy work.

"I know." I nodded already knowing what she probably was going to say.

"I was scared, I was really scared." She added anyway, "You're my best friend next to Quinn and I-I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was just, angry and scared and in fucking pain because that dickhead's jaw felt like punching a brick wall and it hurt like shit." My heart clenched at the way her voice broke but also at the new title she gave me. I wanted to say something but I didn't know what, but just like early, my body had already decided what to do like I was on auto pilot again.

I found my hand carefully picking up hers, the tips of my fingers sliding gradually beneath her warm palm while my thumb ran along the side of her hand, as I found myself drawing it to my lips just before placing a single kiss to the bandage.

I swore I heard her breath hitch, but then again, it could've very well been my own.

Slowly I pulled away and placed my free hand on top of hers so that both my hands were trapping hers like the very action could possibly absorb all that hurt while I glanced up to find two big bowls of chocolate mousse staring down.

"Better?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Uh, yeah.." She breathed out raggedly while I watched the way her throat muscles moved like she was gulping or something afterwards but her eyes never left mine which was surprising, "Much better."

* * *

A/N This was a pretty fun chapter to write, I kind of combined Burlesque's Tough Lover scene and Coyote Ugly's bar fight so I hope you guys were into it! Let me know!


	10. Chapter 10 Hidden Talents

CHAPTER 10

It was a regular sunny Sunday morning complete with a hot bowl of oatmeal, a Harry Potter movie marathon I found on tv, and no Sam when my phone began buzzing against the coffee table. I moved swiftly, abandoning the remote and sliding my nearly empty bowl onto the end table, as I lunged forward and eagerly snatched up the phone expecting it to be Santana since is the usual time she'd call on Sunday.

I had been meaning to call her about how her hand was, but for some weird reason every time I scrolled down to her name, my thumb hovering over her, I couldn't bring myself to make the call. I even tried texting, but the same thing would happen by the time I'd get to the send button.

Now I just hoped that _she'd_ have the guts to make the call or send a text because for some reason, I didn't.

Sadly, no such luck.

Instead, the name _Boss Lady_ appeared across the top of the screen and I hesitantly swiped to answer.

"Hello?"

"_Legs_."

"Boobs."

"_Excuse me?_" Sue admonished, her voice dropping a few octaves at my reply, "Is that any way to greet your boss?"

"Oh, sorry! I thought we were listing our turn-ons.." I flushed as I leaned back against the couch and reached for the remote so Sue wouldn't hear Hedwig's theme playing in the background.

"_Why in the hell would I ever discuss-you know what?-nevermind_," She huffed in frustration, "_There's a mandatory meeting today at the lounge at one, be there." _

The line went dead before I could even get a word out. I instantly wondered what had her in such a rotten mood on such a nice day, but I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. I glanced down at my phone to check the time: _11:30am_, I still had some time to kill before finding out. I reached for my bowl of oatmeal and turned the volume on the tv back up as I settled in for Chamber of Secrets.

XXXX

I still hadn't gotten used to how strange Sloppy Babies looks when it's closed; so empty and dark like it isn't some kind of hotspot when the sun goes down. Upon walking in, I hadn't really seen anyone else and that had me a little nervous considering everything that happened last night and maybe this _mandatory meeting _was only meant for me.

However, as I neared the hostess stand I couldn't help but notice the soulful sounds coming from somewhere near the stage. It was a piano, by its resonating sound that seemed to echo off the walls, that was certain. The tune being played didn't sound like anything I heard during any of Quinn's previous performances, but I just shrugged and assumed that Brad was trying something new. As I was about to turn to head up to Sue's office, I glanced in his direction and realized that the usual scruffy-bearded guy who seem to always be perched on the bench with fingers at the ready wasn't there.

Instead, it was Santana.

All thoughts of continuing my journey upstairs vanished as I fell under her spell. With my foot still hovering above the first step of the stairs, I slowly turned away and began walking to the railing that separated the lobby from the seating area like I was being drawn to her.

She was facing away from me, but I could tell that long, brunette mane from anywhere. I always thought Santana had that kind of hair that begged to have someone comb their fingers through those wavy locks, like it just had to be admired, to be appreciated. My eyes drifted from her hair to her loose, relaxed shoulders and the straightness of her back which I found so surprising because the girl slouches non-stop.

I was still by the sloped stairs that led to the seating area so paralyzed that my hands had subconsciously curled into the cold metal of the railing as if I'd float off into the clouds if I let go. The tune she played was so sorrowfully beautiful that I couldn't move any further though I wanted nothing more than to get closer, to experience _her _closer. Being a dancer for as long as I have been, I've grown to appreciate great music and hearing what Santana was playing had me itching to move but dancing alone wouldn't seem right. Her song was such a sweetly sad one that I felt you'd just _have_ to dance with a partner in order to do it any justice.

What was weird though was that I couldn't make out the tune, but it was oddly familiar like I've heard it before, not playing on the radio or anything but from somewhere else, I just couldn't remember.

I watched as Santana continued to play: her head gently rolling from side to side as her body seemed to sway just a tiny bit to the music while she kept her hands moving along the keys.

I briefly thought of her injured hand and wondered whether or not she was in pain considering she was playing with sore knuckles. She must've, I remember the swells of her skin and the pain in her eyes, there was no way she wasn't aching as she played.

But from where I stood, she looked so into it that even if she was in excruciating pain, her playing took precedence. She played through the soreness effortlessly, her right hand keeping this strangely familiar tune while her left worked to provide a rhythmic accompaniment.

I wanted nothing more than to walk around to the other side of the piano and watch because I bet she looked so peacefully beautiful. I bet her eyes were closed and her pouty lips were pressed into that soft smile she sometimes wears when we're watching tv together and she just looked genuinely happy; someone who played that well _had _to be genuinely happy, at least, while they were playing anyway.

A couple minutes later, I regained the use of my legs and silently weaved my way through the vacant seating area. I ended up taking a seat a few feet away from her, thankful that the chair was already pulled out so it wouldn't scrap against the floor and disturb her playing. I was still out of her sight, but now that I was closer, I could faintly hear her humming.

Suddenly I remembered where I heard the song before; all those times I've caught Santana humming in her kitchen or when we're behind the bar cleaning up or when she's tired but too stubborn to say we can finish an episode tomorrow or when she's waiting in a really long line behind a guy who's talking obnoxiously loud on his Bluetooth for a cup of coffee, it was always the same tune, _this _tune.

I sat there silently, smiling at the little ways she moved, reveling in the moment of clarity. It was kind of like when I first heard Quinn sing; how freaking stunned I was that she even _could _sing but then mind blown because she was amazing at it. The same went for Santana but it was even better because Santana didn't know she had an audience, she didn't have to amp herself up in order to put on a great show, she naturally did compared to Quinn who was used to being in that pressure cooker and performing for people. Santana's playing was so raw and exciting and beautiful and everything and I felt all these things just from listening to her play for only a few minutes!

But all good things must come to an end and after just one more minute of me sitting near her, she struck the keys out of frustration before letting out an agitated sigh then moved her good hand to snatch the sheet music set up in front of her on the music rack.

"That was pretty," I complimented as the silence fell around us causing her to flinch and look over her shoulder. When she saw it was only me, the new-found tension in her muscles dropped a little, and she gave me this half-smile while she swung her leg around to straddle the bench.

I tried to ignore the sudden desire to be that piano bench as I watched her gather her sheet music and set it down between her legs.

"I messed up.." She sighed and shook her head like she was disappointed, "There's errors that I need to fix and it's not even finished yet."

I just shrugged like all of that was irrelevant, "It was still pretty, even with your good hand all bandaged up like that." I jutted my chin in the direction of her hand that looked to be professionally wrapped.

This time she smiled back fully, "Thanks."

"You're welcome," I replied cheerfully and watched hunch over to scribble something down on her papers, "Did you write that?"

"Yeah," She answered quietly then glanced over at me and smirked, "It's kind of my dirty little secret, writing music, so don't tell anyone."

"My lips are sealed," I promised and made the motion of locking my lips and throwing away the key. "Why don't you perform with Quinn? You'd be amazing up there, I mean, I only heard you play for a few minutes but I totally think you'd be great up there and you're way better looking than that old guy with the glasses who usually plays for Quinn."

"Nah, the limelight isn't for me." She chuckled with the shake of her head.

"What?" I gasped, shocked even, "Why not? You're so good!"

"It just isn't, Britt."

"If you try to tell me it's because _you _don't think you're good enough, that's crazy talk."

"No, that's not it." She snickered, not taking her eyes off her papers.

"Well then, what is it?" I asked, wiggling in my seat with anticipation, "Stage fright?"

She just glanced and pursed her lips

I decided not to press for more information after that, knowing Santana, it'll all come out in time. Besides, that was probably her way of giving me an answer anyway, "Well, does that song come with words too?"

She straightened her back and laid her palms flat against the bench as she spoke, "You know, funny thing about this song; I always hear it in my head, everywhere, all the damn time, in my dreams, when I wake up first thing in the afternoon, at the most random parts of the day, it haunts me. I can't help but feel like there should be words, you know? Like, it's just one of those songs that need a little something extra. I mean, not that the instrumental isn't enough because of course it could stand alone, I wrote the damn thing." She was rambling as her eyes remained fixed on her papers, but I found the whole thing mesmerizing. To see someone like Santana: someone who breezes through her days, flirting with whomever whenever, whose only rule in life is _break rules if they need to be broken_, so passionately aggravated over what? Music. "But I feel like there's _something_ that needs to be explained and only words can do that."

"What do you think needs to be explained?" I asked softly, watching how caught up she was getting in her thoughts.

She just shook her head then shrugged helplessly, "I have no clue and it irritates the hell out of me. I'm tortured with this song, day in and day out, and I can't even think of the lyrics that go along with it."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out." I replied encouragingly then smiled brightly as she finally looked up from her papers, "It'll be your best jam_ ever_." Santana grinned happily, her cheeks bunching, as she let out a giggle.

But before she could get out a reply, Quinn was rushing through the entrance and calling out her greeting to us with her pretty blonde hair all wind-swept and the lapels of her coat fluttering at her sides.

"Well, looks like we're all here now." Santana sighed as she stashed the papers in a folder and tucked it in her bag then stood up.

"It's only us three?" I asked quietly like I was afraid Sue would overhear me as I followed after Santana to meet up with Quinn.

"Yup!" She answered unenthusiastically, "She's probably going to chew our asses out."

"Gross.."

"I doubt it," Quinn dismissed as she set a comforting hand on my shoulder, "She's probably going to commend you on your quick thinking." The three of us ascended the stairs, each with our own opinion forming as we got closer to the intimidating steal door marked with Sue's name.

XXXX

Quinn was the first to reach for the door and upon knocking, we filed in: Quinn first, followed by Santana, and then me. I was surprised to find that the room was nearly pitch black, it was actually so dark that if I hadn't been walking so closely behind Santana, I probably would've tripped or gotten lost.

"Ladies," Sue greeted from the darkness, a slight sneer laced in her tone, "Have a seat." Before I could even _try _and feel for wherever the chairs were hiding, a hot lamp light singled us out, making it almost impossible to see Sue sitting on the other side of the desk. Luckily, with the blinding light shining on us, I was able to spot three arm chairs line up in a row.

Quinn obediently took the center seat while Santana and I flanked her sides and followed suit; Santana taking the one on the right while I took the one on the left. The leather chilled the backs of my jean-clad thighs as I settled in, beads of sweat already beginning to collect at the back of my neck from the nerves and the way the hot lamp light shone down at us like we were about to be interrogated. The two of them sat stiffly in their chairs, backs straightened and hands folded neatly in their laps like there was some sort of special posture required in the presence of Sue Sylvester.

Just in case there was, I mimicked their body language and tried not to show how nervous I was. Babysitters are confident women and I had to embrace that!

"First off," Sue said as she directed the beam of the lamp to the ceiling so we could actually see her face. She had wire framed glasses resting at the tip of her nose to which she carefully slipped over her face and set down on a stack of papers littering her desk. Her tired eyes scanned the three of us analytically, "I would like to applaud the way you three handled things last night. Sales were up almost 8% _after _the power outage on stage."

In return for the rare compliment, we gave our thanks and waited anxiously for the rest of Sue's speech.

"Fabray," Sue directed with her chin lifted as she stared at the other blonde, "You worked well under pressure and the lengths you went to make sure everything was up and running again did not go unnoticed." Quinn smiled bashfully. It turned out that while Santana and I were trying to get the bar under control, Quinn was searching the control room for some type of solution and after pressing some lucky buttons and flipping a couple random switches, she successfully got everything back online.

"As for you two," Sue scowled as she directed her gaze to Santana then me before shaking her head at her desk, "What in the hell happened? Broken bottles, broken chairs, a man with a broken nose, _seven _customers escorted out, and you with your hand.." I gulped at Sue's scornful tone and chanced a look in Santana's direction only to find her sitting coolly as ever.

"Look, a couple of guys got impatient," Santana shrugged casually, "Some shoving happened then one thing led to another, but like you said, we handled it."

"A man was _hospitalized_ because of you, Lopez, and though I am impressed that such a weakling like you could pack that kind of punch, that could've been a lawsuit." Sue admonished, "A _lawsuit_!"

I flinched at the way her voice rose but before I could stop myself, I was cutting in, "She was just trying to help get that guy off of me, she didn't do anything wrong." I could feel Santana's eyes staring at me, but my eyes stayed fixed on Sue's who quickly flickered from Santana to me.

"Don't even get me started with you, sister," Sue laughed sarcastically as she wagged a finger at me, "I don't know what kind of place you think I'm running here, but this is _not _one of those kinds of places."

My lips parted, but words never came out. I just shook my head, brow scrunching in confusion, because what the heck is she talking about?

"This isn't some kind of strip club, I don't have my girls purposely causing sex riots. I don't allow dancing on bars, I will _not _downgrade to some brothel."

"Wait, what?" I gasped, trying to wrack my brain for some type of rebuttal. It seemed that Quinn and Santana had the same thought in mind.

"Strip club?" Quinn asked out of shock, "Brittany didn't even take off her clothes. Her moves weren't even _that _inappropriate, this is ridiculous!"

"And have you seen the outfits Kurt makes up for the girls?" Santana asked and threw out her hand like she does when she's angry, "Those are _way _more revealing! You don't want to run a strip club? Well, could've fooled me."

Sue just pinched the bridge of her nose and let out an agitated sigh, "For twenty years, this place oozed talent. I've had the best underground singers in this city perform as my headliners and I will not waste all my hard work, I will not throw away all that respect and tarnish my reputation, for this place to turn into some tasteless club that has half naked girls dancing on bars." I found myself breathing harder as I listened to her rant and I couldn't be more confused!

"Sue, that wasn't Brittany's intention when she got up there." Quinn argued, her voice even like she wasn't fazed by Sue's aggressive tone, "She was only trying to keep the customers from fighting and stall until the stage was back up and running!"

"I'm sure Legs didn't have any ulterior motives, but this kind of thing won't happen again so what I say is final." Sue answered as she crossed her arms over herself and leaned back in her chair, "Pierce, turn in your vest. You're done here."

For a second, I felt my heart completely stop. It was like all the breath in me left my body and I was just staring at her, jaw dropped and eyes wide opened. I was paralyzed with shock.

"Hold up, you're _firing _her?" Santana snapped like a new fire had started within her, "That's garbage, Sue! Brittany _saved _your ass last night. She saved _all _our asses last night." Santana glanced down my way, her lips pursed slightly like she was reflecting on some memory before she looked back up at Sue, "Even mine. Without her, this place would've gotten shut down and I know for a fact you can't afford that hefty bill. You said so yourself, sales were up 8% last night, and to reward the person responsible for that you're firing her? Capital freaking idea!"

I thought I was surprised by Sue firing me, but seeing Santana so worked up and actually arguing with someone as daunting as Sue had taken the cake. Though I know I should feel completely devastated for losing my job, I couldn't help but feel a little warm on the inside from Santana trying so hard to defend me.

"Santana-" Sue tried to cut in but Santana was already rising from her seat in a great big huff. My eyes widened as I watched her body tense and the veins at her neck bulge as her voice grew louder. Quinn remained just as poised as before, like she was somewhat used to Santana's behavior.

"You should be thanking Brittany for doing what she did!" Santana advised, "You should be taking note of the sales increase and realize that maybe it's time to switch up some things, maybe singing isn't enough anymore! I know that you know that this place's glory days are over but maybe what Brittany offers can help bring us back. We can charge higher admission, make more money, incorporate routines with Quinn's performances.." As she trailed off, Santana's eyes drifted from Sue's, over the top of Quinn's pretty blonde head, to catch mine for just a moment before she directed her gaze back on Sue, "You should be thanking Brittany."

For some reason, the way those last words fell from her lips made it sound like she was trying to convince herself rather than persuade Sue.

"If not, if you actually believe that firing her is just after everything that has happened then.." Santana's voice shrunk frighteningly low as she walked around the back of her arm chair and curled the fingers of her good hand into its leather, "Then I quit."

"Santana!" I gasped, my eyes snapping from Sue's expressionless face to Santana. I saw a slight quiver in Quinn's perfect demeanor, but she composed herself and remained facing forward.

"You quit?"Sue smirked as she rested back fully against her chair.

"Yup!"

"No!" I cut in but Santana threw her hand up again and just like that, she was heading for the door.

Before I realized it, I was chasing after Santana, surprised that she was already half way down the stairs by the time I shut Sue's door behind me.

"Santana, wait!" I called as I rushed after her. Upon descending the stairs, she twirled at the spot, deep brown hair fanning from her face to land behind her shoulder.

For a second there, I almost forgot what I was going to say. _Almost_.

"Why did you do that?" I asked, my voice coming out surprisingly sharp, "You didn't have to do that!"

"Just give it a couple minutes, Britt," She smirked as she nodded upstairs, "We know what we're doing." I stared back at her blankly, my brows knitting with confusion yet again. "Sue can't run this place without me, without us."

My throat tightened embarrassingly at the thought of Santana considering us, well, _us_. A pair, a duo, two-shot, a coup-

"Oh and Brittany?" She added as she rested her hip against the lobby railing. I looked up from the tiled floor to find her grinning, shyly almost.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

I felt myself shake my head slightly, "For what?"

There was a short pause, like she was trying to find the right words or something, "You carried me. I had an injured hand, not a broken leg, but you carried me anyway." Her eyes found her fingers fiddling with the surgical type wrapped around her knuckles as she shrugged, "You didn't have to do that."

Smiling because I swore that Santana might actually be blushing again, I just shrugged too, "I guess we're even now then."

After a minute or two of straight silence, Quinn poked her head out from behind Sue's door and smirked, "Get your asses back in here."

XXXX

"It seems that I have underestimated you three," Sue sneered as the three of us were sat in our respective seats once again. I watched as Santana turned up her nose while Quinn smiled devilishly, "After some thinking and a little persuading on Quinn's part, I've decided that maybe it would be an..interesting idea to incorporate Brittany's dancing."

The butterflies lazily floating around in my belly suddenly went on overdrive, but I remained still, trying to mimic Quinn's cool persona.

"Which would mean that Brittany can keep her vest," Sue added then cut her eyes to Santana, "So if Brittany is staying then that means her partner in crime will be too?"

Santana slowly faced Sue then nodded subtly.

"We'll start off slow; during Quinn's intermission Brittany will perform at the bar."

"_On _the bar," Quinn corrected. Sue pursed her lips and nodded.

"On the bar." Sue mimicked with an eye roll, "That way when she's through, she won't have to go far to get back to her station." Sue replied then faced me, "I'm appointing you free reign on whatever you'd like to choreograph, all I ask is that you have Q or Sandbags here critique you before you actually perform it. They know what I'll accept which is nothing but the very best and if you don't live up to their standards, you won't live up to mine."

"Okay," I answered shakily, "I can do that."

"The performances don't have to fill up the entire fifteen minute intermission and if you can incorporate the other girls, that would be smart. Actually, that's mandatory now." Sue advised, "Seeing you _and _the waitresses in sync would make performance bearable."

"B-But the waitresses," I stammered as I looked to Santana and Quinn before meeting Sue's gaze, "Can they dance?"

Sue just snickered and shook her head, "This is New York, your neighbor is probably a _professional _dancer waiting for her _big break_."

"Actually no, she's a homewrecking boyfriend stealer." I muttered at the girl's mention.

"Yeah, there's those here too." Sue waved off, "Your kind isn't hard to come by around here, Legs."

For some reason, that stung a little.

_Nothing special. Nothing different. Useless. Eye catching._

The director's words still managed to haunt me somehow, but as if she took notice of my sudden mood change, Santana spoke up.

"If this place is _crawling_ with dancers, if her _kind _isn't hard to come by, then why didn't any of them take charge like Britt did last night?" Santana huffed as she scooted to the edge of her seat, her bandaged hand resting in her lap while her good hand gripped tightly to the arm of the chair like it was the only thing keeping her seated. She was defending me again like it had become second nature to her or something.

Sue didn't speak and neither could I.

"Brittany _has_ something to offer and that's what separates her from the others." Santana added with her tone bridging on completely pissed off, "It's something special and _that's _what makes her a Babysitter."

_Santana Lopez thinks that I'm something special_.

"We each have something to bring to the table and last night, Brittany showed that she does too." Santana continued until Sue's hand rose to stop her from talking.

"You can call off your attack dog now," She smirked as she quirked her brow at Santana's behavior and looked to me before scanning our faces, "Don't disappoint me."

"We won't." Quinn answered firmly, her voice sounding so dainty compared to Santana's.

"Good," Sue answered sternly as she slipped her glasses back up her nose, "Now, get the hell out of my office."

The three of us filed out swiftly; this time Santana leading the line, while Quinn trailed behind her and I followed behind. Once the door closed and we were gathered outside the entrance of the lounge, Quinn turned to Santana and punched her in the arm.

_Oh God, not again._

"Hey, what the hell?" Santana shrieked and started to rub at her shoulder.

"When are you going to quit running off at the mouth?" Quinn scolded, "You know how hard it is to clean up your mess when you're so damn adamant about making a scene? We're a team, you ca't expect me to have your back all the time when you're always trying to fly solo."

I actually felt a little bad for Santana by the Quinn was talking to her like that, like a mother telling you they're disappointed in you for making bad grades or something. From how they spoke, I could tell that this was a common thing; Quinn standing up for Santana and vice versa maybe. I never wanted to disappoint Quinn if hearing that kind of tone from her was the result.

"I'm sorry, Q." Santana replied though her eyes never reached Quinn's. She looked so helpless as she lifted her shoulders tiredly, "I just, I didn't like how she was talking to Britt."

Quinn's tensed shoulders eased at hearing Santana's reason and a small smile replaced the former frown instead, "I didn't like how she talked to her either, but there are rules."

Then just like a switch in the bartender, Santana's sweet worrying was overtaken by a smug grin, "Now when have I ever followed rules?"

XXXX

There wasn't a set date or deadline to present Quinn and Santana with a choreographed routine, so I took my time in thinking up possible sets. As the work days followed, I ventured out further from the bar before opening and after closing to find out which of the waitresses were comfortable dancing in the routines. It turned out that nearly everyone wanted to take part in the dance which I wasn't surprised by. Like I said, dancers are _always _hungry and if the opportunity is there, they'd take it. Besides, if we're all here because our high hopes for an awesome dance career were shot down by some snooty director, this was our second best thing!

Slowly the team grew and slowly the routines improved.

I had never really led a team of dancers like I was attempting to do. I had never really choreographed an actual performance. The only thing I was confident in was my dancing.

_And Santana thinking I was special._

With that in mind, weight of the task on my shoulders didn't seem _that _heavy.

XXXX

By Friday, I felt a little tuckered out. My head was filled to the very top with choreography and I couldn't shake the fear of disappointing someone: Sue, Quinn, and now Santana. Especially, Santana because she spoke so highly of me when we were in Sue's office. Along with choreography, thoughts of the bartender ventured in too. She confused me in the best of ways and it scared me a little. One minute she was being a tease, the next a sweet friend, then an angry person, then back to a tease! I couldn't tell which gave me a headache more, the choreography or her.

"Thinking hard or hardly thinking?"

I looked up from my phone to see Santana waltzing in from the storage room with a wooden crate in her arms.

"I have no idea anymore," I sighed and stuffed the phone in my pocket.

"I think I know just what you need," She smirked as she dropped the crate on the back counter and sidled up next to me, her right hand sliding against the countertop until she was just inches away from touching my elbow. I could feel her staring at my lips, she did so without a hint of shame and it made the back of my neck heat up and the tips of my ears to tinge pink, before she slowly trailed up to meet my eyes, "Sex."

And just like that, my heart skipped a few necessary beats.

"Like a lot of it," She added with an encouraging nod while I stayed completely still, "Super hot, sweaty, rough sex, preferably with me."

I was pretty sure my jaw would be somewhere on the floor by now, but the way my body ignited by her words kept me from doing or saying anything. I just alternated from staring into lusty chocolate brown eyes and pouty lips.

"It would be great, me and you, fucking." She shrugged like it was nothing, "We could do it right here, right on this counter," I watched as she took her finger and drew a lazy circle atop the counter, "We could do it in the storage room? I could sit you on the new crates of Captain Morgan and fuck you senseless."

I felt my throat tighten and my mouth go dry at the possibility.

"Oh, but that's wooden." She sighed, "I wouldn't want you getting any splinters. We could always just do it up against the wall, my hand covering your mouth so no one would hear you c-"

"Ssan.." I gasped as I felt her body move closer to mine, the relentless throbbing between my legs increasing at her new closeness though we weren't even touching.

"We could try something else if you'd like," She shrugged casually as she took a step back like she noticed how it made it harder for me to breathe with her so near, "Something a little less fun but still enjoyable, because I'm concerned that my bubbly blonde friend with such a bangin' body has been working way too hard lately. I'm worried that she may be lacking something in her life."

"Like what?" I rasped, embarrassed by how thick my voice had gotten.

She just smirked and flicked her eyes to someone behind me then whispered, "Just follow my lead."

"Santana, Brittany ,hi!"

I turned to see Mike from Q-zar standing on the other side of the bar. He looked different out of his uniform; now donning a blue and yellow flannel button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and his hair tastefully pushed up.

"Boy Chang, fancy seeing you here!" Santana greeted cheerfully though if anyone really knew her, they'd know that tone as her being fake.

"Yeah, I thought I'd finally drop by." He grinned as he lifted his matchbook then nodded to Quinn on stage, "She's great up there, isn't she?"

"Definitely!" I answered before Santana could, the effects of her teasing just seconds ago slowly fading away.

"If you want to wait a little bit, her break is soon and she usually comes this way for a drink." Santana offered with a shrug.

"You can surprise her!" I added hoping that I had caught on to Santana's game successfully.

"That would be awesome," Mike cheered but Santana just smiled devilishly.

"So what are your intentions with her?" She blurted causing my head to swivel, "Fuck buddy? Long term? One night stand?" I eyed Santana carefully, watching the way she sharpened her voice then turned it sweet: she was up to something.

"Uhhhh.."

"You think she's pretty, right?" I questioned, eyes narrowing as he began to sweat.

"Of-of course, she's-"

"And you like her?" Santana followed, pressuring him further.

"Well, I-I.."

"You know the Spice Girls?" I asked without bothering to hear the rest of his sentence.

"Yeah?" He nodded like he didn't get where it was going.

"Well, if you want to be her lover..you've got to get with her friends." Santana smirked and tugged me to her by my waist, "We're the friends."

Mike looked between us like he had no idea what we were talking about.

XXXX

It was hilarious how willing Mike was to impress us, because as Santana so politely put it, there was no way in hell that she was going to let some Q-zar dork break her best friend's heart. We decided that auctioning him off was an acceptable hazing exercise considering how much we care about Quinn.

So when I encouraged him to join me on the bar, he leapt up enthusiastically. Seeing that he was willing to do whatever to get our _blessing _to ask Quinn out on a date, Santana and I milked it! Santana said that if he couldn't take it, he couldn't take Quinn. Mike didn't even flinch at the challenge.

It was ladies' night, every third Friday of the month was and it just so happened to be my first, and women flocked the bar at Mike's appearance. Quinn had already left the stage so we had a few minutes before she'd come out for her drink. Santana picked up the megaphone we kept under the counter and gestured up at us:

"Hey ladies!" She hollered out at the group while Mike stood awkwardly on the counter since there wasn't any music for us to move to yet, "You feeling that Asian persuasion? Well, for one night and one night only, you can get this-"Santana motioned for Mike as the music finally cut on, "Fully trained, housebroken, backflipping stud!" I tried to fight off the giggling as Santana went on with talking Mike up, this whole plan was crazy!

It was fun dancing with Mike though; his moves were so smooth and all the little twirls and spins he did along the counter had girls swooning!

Bidding skyrocketed as he slid across the bar on his knees and did another spin move that landed him on his back but he didn't stay there long as he did a kip up landing him right back on his feet as he continued to groove to the music fluidly. He seemed to be having such a great time while Santana just laughed and yelled for the girls to keep bidding.

"_Fifty-five dollars!"_

_"Seventy!"_

_"Seventy-five!"_

_"Eighty dollars!"_

"Come on, ladies, is that all you've got?" Santana provoked as she rose her bandaged hand and gestured for the crowd to get those bets up. I hopped down from the counter to give Mike more space to move around then sidled up next to Santana as she kept hollering at the crowd and egging Mike on.

"Twenty more and he takes off his shirt!" Santana teased while Mike's fingers danced up his torso to the buttons of his flannel, popping each of them open as he went but not revealing any skin.

"Wait, doesn't that count as stripping? Won't we get in trouble?" I gasped, tugging on Santana's arm so she wasn't speaking into the megaphone.

"Hmm, good point. Well, let's hope they don't get to-"

"One hundred and fifty dollars!"

Santana and I whipped our heads to the owner of the voice so fast that we could've give ourselves whiplash!

Quinn, dressed in a sparkly silver gown and her hair swept up in a neat bun, walked through the sea of girls, the crowd parting for her like he was the female version of Moses.

"Sold!" Mike shouted upon seeing the blonde and he happily jumped down leaving a mess of brokenhearts.

"Uh-oh, busted.." I muttered guiltily as Quinn walked towards the bar with her hands on her hips, lips pursed, and a dainty brow rose. "Look who came to visit you!" I cheered hoping that I could melt some of that angry off her face.

"Hi, yeah, sorry it took so long! I've been working night shifts lately.." Mike answered, his breath slightly ragged from the dancing, "You were so great on stage, I had no idea you could sing so well!"

"Thank you," Quinn blushed cutely then nodded to the seating area, "Do you mind waiting over there? I've been standing for awhile and I just want to sit. I'll grab my drink and meet you over there."

"Sure thing, of course!" Mike nodded and turned away to find a free table. Quinn's sickeningly sweet smile vanished the instant he was gone and she looked to us with narrowed eyes.

"What the hell was that about?"

"Hold up, I think you owe me and Brittz here some money." Santana teased and out of habit extended her left hand to the fuming blonde.

"You just tried selling Mike!" Quinn huffed and smacked Santana's hand away, not roughly, but just enough to cause the bartender to shriek.

"Hey, no hitting." I warned but Quinn just shook her head.

"You guys are crazy, it'll be all your fault if he ends up being too scared to talk to me!"

"I doubt he's scared, Quinn, did you see him up there?" I asked cheerfully.

"Of course I saw him, how could I not when you guys had all these sleezy girls throwing themselves at him."

"I think someone threw their bra too."

"Yeah, that's definitely a bra." Santana chuckled, glancing in the direction of the far end of the bar before turning a softened expression to Quinn, "Look Q, we're just being your friends that care about you and what kind of friends would we be if we didn't pick on you about your crush?" Santana shrugged, trying to justify her need to stir up trouble, "Besides, Britt needed some fun in her life. You had fun dancing up there, right Britt?"

"Well yeah, but I always have fun dancing.."

"Oh, really? Well, how about I pick on you about _your_ crushes then?" Quinn snapped as she eyed the both of us carefully like she didn't even hear the last half of what Santana said, "I wouldn't want to be a bad friend now, would I?"

I tensed at the very threat.

And for some reason so did Santana.

Quinn seemed to be pleased with our answers, or lack thereof, and went back to smiling triumphantly, "Uh-huh, that's what I thought." Then with one last wink, she snatched her drink from Santana's good hand and walked proudly over to Mike leaving Santana and I silent in her wake.

* * *

A/N Longer chapter than usual because I've finally kept to my draft instead of breaking it into two parts! If you've seen Coyote Ugly, you'll understand my auctioning off reference. If not, you should probably go watch it because it's an awesome movie. Love me some unholy trinity shenanigans, how about you?


	11. Chapter 11 Suckered

CHAPTER 11

Upon realizing that I couldn't really practice my sets at home because of the lack of space and also Sam always trying to talk, I moved my choreographing to Sloppy Babies where Sue allowed me to use the stage when no one else was. I was still a little nervous about showing Quinn or Santana any actual sets yet, but I felt like progress was slowly being made. On one particular Sunday morning, I was practicing extra hard mainly because of how rusty I've been since I haven't been practicing until Sue thought up this new arrangement. I just couldn't see how I could be in any position to teach a group of equally talented dancers, or so they say, anything if I don't look like I know what I'm doing too.

"She wasn't kidding.."

The voice startled me at first since, aside from Puck who always seems to be manning the front door, I was alone but when I realized who it could be, I straightened up.

Though I had known both of them long enough by now that I could tell their voices apart without looking, I kind of hoped it was Santana walking towards the stage instead of Quinn.

"What do you mean?" I chuckled as I scuffled to the edge of the stage and plopped down while Quinn closed the distance.

She tossed me a cold water bottle and shrugged, "You need some fun in your life."

I focused my eyes on unscrewing the cap, "Please don't start listing off places where we could have sex, I'm still trying to recover from Santana's.."

"Wait, what?!"

Realizing what I just said, I quickly took the bottle to my lips, attempting to empty out every last drop so I didn't have to answer her.

Quinn just ran her hand through her choppy blonde hair and shook her head, "That girl, I swear, she can't ever keep it in her pants! But no, that's not what I was going to say.."

"Oh, okay good!" I answered happily and set the bottle down next to me, "What's up?"

"Nothing, I was just in the area and thought I'd drop by to see if you were in here." She replied casually, "And you are, do you have anything planned later?"

Swinging my feet lazily off the edge of the stage, I looked up at the red curtains lining the stage as I tried to remember, "Actually, yeah! Well, sort of. I wanted to see if Santana wanted to go watch a movie with me, but I hadn't asked her yet."

"Ohh, okay nevermi-"

"Do you wanna go too?" I asked, cutting her off, "With the both of us there, she can't say no..especially because it's a scary movie and guessing by how jumpy she is whenever she doesn't hear me come in, I don't think she likes scary movies, but I really really want to watch it." I noted the skepticism in Quinn's facial features and continued on with begging, "Awh, come on Quinn..you guys are always saying I need some fun in my life, right? The movies are fun!"

Quinn just snickered at me trying to work The Pout and sighed, "I guess I could tag along, but I'm bringing Mike!" I wanted to start teasing her about her crush slowly moving up the list to _boyfriend_ but I didn't want to press any buttons, "Besides, I am _not _trying to be third wheel with you two."

"Wait, third wheel?" I asked, nose scrunched, "How? Isn't that when there's a couple and some random is there too? I don't get it.."

She just squinted her eyes at me and smirked, "I'll look up movie times and I'll text you? You should probably head home and get showered up!"

"Wait, but I haven't even asked San-"

"I doubt she'll say no."

Before I could even reply, she was saying her goodbyes and waltzing out the door. I just shrugged and began to pack up my stuff; a shower sounded really good anyway.

XXXX

Just as Quinn predicted, Santana didn't say no when I asked if she wanted to go with us to the movies. She actually seemed really excited about it until I told her what we were planning to watch; it took a lot of coaxing on my end and a lot of teasing on Quinn's for Santana to finally agree.

Aside from the Wednesday Q-zar visits and the occasional late breakfast at Rory's, I hadn't really done anything _fun _lately. Sure, working at Sloppy Babies was super fun but that's my job and there's a line drawn between work and play. With that being said, to say I was pumped to go out with the girls (plus Mike) was a bit of an understatement.

"I think your friend is here," Sam called from somewhere in the living room, "Do you want me to buzz her up?"

Checking the time quickly and realizing I was running late, I shrugged on my sweater and practically jumped into my low cut boots, "Yeah, could you?"

"Sure," He answered, his voice monotone as I heard the familiar buzz follow. I ran around the bedroom attempting to fix my hair and double check my outfit for the millionth time, the feeling in the pit of my stomach multiplying as I tried to get myself together. I couldn't decide whether that feeling was excitement or nervousness, but at the sound of the front door opening and closing and the rasp of Santana's voice mixing with Sam's, I didn't think it mattered; the feeling only kept growing. I swept up my hair and tossed it over my shoulder before making my way out into the living room.

There, perched on the arm of our raggedy couch, sat a flawless Santana Lopez. She wore this tight, _very _form fitting, cream and black dress, the hem so short that it left almost nothing to the imagination, the neckline cut in a low V which showed off just enough cleavage that had me thanking my dad for giving me his height genes, a black leather jacket that clung to her toned arms, black socks that went up to mid-thigh and black, high-heeled combat boots donned her feet.

If it was possible to look completely badass and completely adorable all at the same time, Santana Lopez could do it. Though I doubt the completely adorable part was intentional.

I sort of felt a little underdressed considering what she was wearing compared to my jeans and a sweater look, but I doubt I had any time to do a fourth wardrobe change.

It was then that I realized it, but Santana has never been inside me and Sam's apartment. Sure, there has been a couple times where she has dropped me home or picked me up but other than that, she's never stayed long enough to come up. Suddenly, this irrational need to clean hit me but before I could even pick up one of Sam's dirty flannels Sam was motioning for me.

"Here she is," He said as I ducked out of the shadows of the hallway which previously hid me from Santana's view, "She doesn't usually take _that _long to get ready.."

And if there was any other time where I've wanted to tell Sam to shut his mouth, it was now.

I felt my cheeks start to flush as I walked further into the living room to find him standing cross-armed in front of Santana and Santana still sitting pretty. They both had their eyes on me, but I couldn't help but chuckle at the not-so-subtle way Santana's eyes seemed to sweep up and down my body. For some reason, that eased my rattling nerves.

"Yeah, sorry..I-uh-I could't find my other shoe." I stammered as I stood between them, the tension in the room growing thick quickly. Santana just snickered and hopped up from her spot on the couch, her hands smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress, while Sam just looked at me then her with a quirked brow.

Noticing the slow grinding gears in his head beginning to churn, I nodded for the door, "Well, we're just gunna go now."

"Wait, is this-" Sam rambled as he looked at Santana and I fleeting with his forehead wrinkled, "Are you guys..you know?"

Santana and I looked to each other, confused, then looked back at Sam expectantly.

"Are we what?" I questioned when Sam still hadn't answered, just stared between us like he was trying to read some invisible writing.

"_You know_.." He huffed like it was supposed to be some universal answer.

"No, I don't know?"

I was starting to get frustrated with him and it was bringing down my mood, but Santana seemed to catch onto whatever he was trying to say.

"We're not, but if we were, I don't think it would be any of your business." She bit, her tone threateningly low yet the smile on her face showing nothing but sweetness. She nudged the back of my arm with her hand, motioning for me to get the door before she looked back over her shoulder at a dumbfounded Sam and smirked, "Don't wait up, Trouty!"

XXXX

We were sitting in the car, waiting for it to warm up, when Santana's phone started ringing. Since she had it propped up on the dashboard charging, I caught a glimpse of Quinn's picture and guess that it was her calling. If not, that's a weird picture for Santana to have as her background.

There's something about watching Santana talk on the phone to Quinn that I always find so freaking hilarious. It's like they get into an argument, make up, and then tease each other all at the same time. Like right now, I can tell that Santana's feathers are getting all ruffled up by whatever Quinn was talking to her about.

"Oh really now?" Santana asked sarcastically, "Should I have brought flowers too or something because you know what this sounds like to me? It's sounds like I just got suckered into going on a- oh don't even go there Fabray!" There was a short pause where Santana just huffed and rolled her eyes like Quinn could see it through the phone, "God, you're ridiculous. We've talked about this already, let me just-" Then it was like Santana could feel me staring at her as she glanced to her right and looked at me, "We'll see you there." She hung up and set the phone back in its place on her dash and revved her engine a little as she gripped her steering wheel tightly.

"What was that about?" I asked hesitantly, hoping that maybe I've got Santana on a good day where she'd actually talk about things that upset her to me.

"We're meeting Quinn and Mike for an early dinner, they thought it would be a good idea so we wouldn't have to spend much at the movies." Santana shrugged casually as she pulled out onto the main road.

"Ohh, are you not hungry?" I questioned attempting to hide the pang of guilt for wanting to go, "We don't have to go with them if you don't want to."

Her eyes remained fixed on the road but I could still see the hint of a smile pull at her cheek, "I want to."

Smiling widely, I rested back in my seat and gazed out the windshield, "Cool, me too!"

XXXX

We pulled up to some pizza parlor about ten minute later. I waved to Quinn and Mike as Santana and I unbuckled and hopped out to greet them. I couldn't help but grin at how Quinn seemed to cling onto Mike's arm as they led the way to the entrance then motioned for us to walk in while he held the door open.

It didn't take long for us to be seated; our waiter guided us to an open booth at the corner of the restaurant, Santana and I sliding in on one side and Quinn and Mike sliding in other respectively, then took our drink orders promptly while the four of us scanned the menu. By the way Santana and Quinn chatted; it seemed like their previous phone call had never happened which I was thankful for. Nothing's worse than having two best friends feuding during dinner. By the time the waiter came back around with our drinks, we agreed on doing a split pie since Quinn and Santana couldn't agree on one topping and Mike and I were cool with anything.

Dinner had gone smoothly after the pizza came out: Santana sort of apologized to Mike for trying to sell him the first time he came to visit Quinn, Mike seemed to accept the apology, Quinn just remained looking just as smitten whenever he talked, Santana continued trying to tease them, and I was just happy to be amongst such good friends. Even only knowing Mike for such a short time, I could already tell he was good company.

However, when the checks came around things kind of took a wrong turn.

"Huh, looks like he split the bill between us two and you guys." Quinn acknowledged as she nodded to the two black folders at the end of our table.

Santana and I both reached for our folder at the same time, our hands clashing and our eyes shooting up to find each other's.

"What are you doing?"

"What are _you _doing?"

"This'll be great," Quinn smirked as she rested back against the booth while Mike overlooked their bill. My eyes remained on Santana's though as we both clutched the folder, neither one of us budging to let go.

"I'm paying, duh."

"Oh no you're not, _I_ am."

"But you drove though," I tried persuading, confused as to why Santana was putting up such a fight, "That means I should pay."

"No it doesn't."

"Let go of the bill."

"No, _you _let go."

"San.."

"Britt.."

"Guys?" Mike's voice cut in as he tried to mediate, but Santana and I still weren't budging.

"You're not paying for it, so just give up now." Santana shrugged as she tugged on the folder a little.

"Not a chance," I huffed and tugged back, matching her determined grin, "Quit being stubborn."

"I'm not, _you _are!"

"Not-uh!"

"Ladies, please-" Mike tried cutting in again but Quinn tugged him back.

"Shh, it's getting good."

"Damnit, Britt, let go."

"Never!"

"Alright, that's it, give me that." Mike huffed and reached over the empty pizza pan stand and snatched the bill from both our hands, leaving Santana and I both shocked. We watched as he swiftly took our check and set it in the same folder as his and Quinn's then pulled a couple bills from his wallet it and closed it in the folder.

Before either San or I could try and get our check back, Mike had already flagged down the waiter and made him run to cash us out. Quinn just laughed while Santana and I flopped back against our side of the booth, Mike's excuse being: "A gentleman never lets a lady pay."

XXXX

After leaving the pizza parlor and deciding to walk to the movies instead, Santana and I trail behind Quinn and Mike as we weave our way through the crowd.

"What suckers, right?" Santana teased quietly as she nodded to Quinn laughing a pitch or two higher than she usually does while Mike just grinned his charming grin. Quinn's arm looped around his and the sort of bumped their sides together as they walked, both continuing to laugh.

"I don't know, I think they're cute." I shrugged, smiling enviously after them. That smile quickly fell when I caught sight of Santana's scrunched up disgusted face, "What? You don't think they're cute?"

"Hell no," She answered abruptly, "They're dumb if you ask me."

"Well nobody asked you!" Quinn yelled over her shoulder then stuck her tongue out at Santana causing the bartender to scoff.

"Why?" I asked, choosing to ignore Quinn's remark. Santana just tightened her jaw and kept her eyes focused forward.

"Because, it's a waste of time." She finally answered then shrugged, "I lose interest and girls hate when you lose interest in them. Just look at Berry. I rather just skip to the good part." She glanced over at me and wagged her brows seductively causing me to sputter out a laugh though I felt heat creep up the back of my neck.

"There's more than just sex though."

"Is there?" She smirked.

"Of course!" I answered confidently, "I just think you haven't found the right person that makes going on dates fun yet, you know?" She glanced my way again only this time she looked like she was actually considering what I was saying. It was a brief glance, just like every other time we've made eye contact, but I still counted it.

"There's that word again." She sighed as she flicked her eyes back over to Quinn and Mike walking ahead of us.

With brows furrowed, I tried to think back my last sentence and what word she could be talking about but she was already rambling again.

"What about Trouty? Did he take you out on _fun _dates?" She asked, the word _fun _falling from her lips like it was something gross tasting.

"He used to, yeah." I nodded surely, "You know, before things got weird."

"Huh." She hummed as her only response. I tried to decipher her facial expression, but Santana was so hard to read sometimes. I'm pretty sure she does it on purpose though.

"Well, dates aren't for me." She huffed and waved the thought away with her hand, "I'll just keep doing what I'm doing, it works for me."

"I'm sure it does," I sighed, a sudden sinking feeling finding its way to my stomach for some reason, "Doesn't that get a little lonely though? Always skipping around like that?"

I watched as she ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip slowly before taking it between her teeth like she was going into some deep thought, "I'm not lonely."

"Well, _I'd_ get lonely.." I whispered, afraid that if I talked too loudly I might scare her off.

"I'm just-I don't think I'm made for that stuff." She said, shaking her head, her eyes refusing to find mine.

"But, how do you know when you've never tried?" I questioned and for the second time that night, Santana looked up at me and stared directly into my eyes.

"Who said I hadn't?"

Her eyes flickered between mine, searching almost, like she was daring me to say something different, while she pursed her lips together.

In that moment, she looked so small, so fragile, and I wanted to know who it was that made her give up on dates all together. I wanted to find that person and smack them upside the head for making someone as wonderful as Santana feel like they weren't _made _to go on dates, like she wasn't allowed to have more than just sex with people, like she couldn't have a normal relationship.

At first I thought about Rachel and how hurt Santana looked when she told the bartender that she was incapable of loving someone. Was it Rachel? But from what Quinn said, Santana's always been this way. So it was someone before Rachel? It had to be.

My lips parted, desperate for an answer, but the voice that came out wasn't mine, instead, it was Quinn's.

"You guys coming or what?" She called after us as she and Mike filed into the line at the ticket booth. Santana just gave a weak smile and nodded to Quinn before walking off and I following after her.

XXXX

The movie ended up being way scarier than I thought it would be. Most of the time, trailers give away the best parts just because they want people to watch, but even with the _best _parts out of the way, there were still some pretty gut wrenching scenes. I was a little thankful for the distraction, because there was no way you couldn't _not _focus all your attention on the big screen, but when I glanced over to see how Santana was handling the movie, I kind of felt bad.

She had her legs crossed at her knees so tight that I'm sure she was going numb by now. She held her hands close to her cheeks, mostly covering her mouth in attempt to stifle her cute little shrieks, but occasionally flying up to cover her eyes. Other times, when she was brave enough, she let her hands dangle off the ends of the arm rests like she was trying to regain her dignity, but even then she'd grip at them and squeeze her eyes shut when the crazy axe man sliced up another victim.

Quinn, on the other hand, was enjoying herself fully with being able to hide her face in Mike's shoulder and lean over me to joke Santana's skittish behavior. Between the hiding the _both _of them did, they slung insults and rude remarks at each other over me.

Really, I couldn't tell which was more entertaining.

At one particular scene in the movie, Santana had been trying to keep her hands on the arm rests instead of covering her eyes, blame Quinn's incessant teasing, when out of nowhere the crazy axe man kicked open the flimsy wooden door letting crack against the cabin wall eliciting a loud smack and a shrill scream that seemed to shake the walls of the theatre.

"Jesus fuck!" Santana shrieked and curled her fingers tightly around my wrist, her blunt nails digging into my skin so hard that it could've drawn blood. I glanced over at her again to find her eyes sealed shut and her head tilted to me like she wanted to what Quinn was doing to Mike. Even though I wanted to scream and hide like most of the other patrons in the theatre, I couldn't help but smile.

Because, in all her _badass glory_, Santana turned to me for protection.

"Shit, sorry.." she whispered when she realized what her hand was doing and that my wrist wasn't actually apart of the theatre chairs. She slowly let go, her fingers leaving this tingling sensation against my skin, and shuffled back in her chair, this time putting more distance between us than necessary, her arms tucking at her chest like that was supposed to keep her hands from wandering.

I just nodded like it was no big deal and turned back to the movie.

As the movie went on, it seemed that the scenes continued to get more and more graphic. I kept check on Santana out of habit, only to find that her hands were yet again clasped over her eyes and she was sunk so far back in her chair, it was like she was trying to disappear.

I don't know what made me do it, but I was leaning over the arm rest to her before I could talk myself out of it.

"Pssst.."

Santana peeked between her fingers then slowly withdrew them from her eyes when she saw it was just me; then again, who else could it be when there was no one else sitting next to her? I think she was so past being prideful that she was scared that she didn't even _try _to come up with an excuse for trying to hide. I tried not letting my smile take up too much of my face as I took in how traumatized she looked.

"You're looking a little..scared." I whispered, my leaning in got me close enough that when I spoke, my chin just barely brushed against her shoulder.

"I-I'm not." She stuttered unconvincingly causing me to smirk. She caught that and straightened up in her seat a little more, "What? I'm not." I just nodded along with her, my lips pouted still to keep the growing smile away. She only rolled her eyes and sunk back against her chair again out of defeat, "Okay, this movie is fucking scary. The plot, the fucker that's killing everyone, the creepy music, it's all bullshit. I'm pretty sure I'll have nightmares tonight. There, I said it. Happy?"

At Santana's confession, I couldn't help but snicker.

"Quit laughing, it's not funny." Santana grumbled, folding up her arms again like she was three year old being refused candy.

"I don't know, I think it's pretty funny.." I giggled a little too loudly.

"Hey, shush!" Quinn huffed earning her a scowl from Santana.

"_You _shush!"

I just shook my head at the two then leaned back over to the bartender, "I might know what can take your mind off it.." I watched as her eyes widened at my voice and she very slowly tilted her head to me.

"Uhh, off what?" She stammered, only this time I don't think it was because of the crazy axe man instilling fear in her.

"The movie," I whispered and leaned in real close again, so close that I could faintly smell the scent of her hair. I didn't want Quinn to hear my super secret plan, so I moved a little closer to the point that I was resting all my weight on the arm rest between Santana and I. I found myself swallowing dryly as the tip of my nose accidently nudged the shell of her ear, but I remained cool, "I know the perfect distraction."

"Y-yeah?" The bartender mumbled breathlessly as she kept her gaze fixed forward.

I just nodded, the tip of my nose accidently grazing the edge of her ear yet again, then whispered, "Oh yeah."

XXXX

"Huh, that's not exactly what I had in mind.." Santana hummed as I dug around in my sweater pocket.

"What did you have in mind?" I questioned as I finally found the crinkled Skittles wrapper and pulled out the bag that was still half full, "Give me your hand." She presented me her hand, palm up, while she just shook her head.

"Not_ this_, that's for sure."

"You sound a little disappointed," I pouted, "Don't you like my idea?"

She just sighed and nodded out her answer before commenting again, "Who even keeps bags of candy like that in their pockets? It's so random."

"No it's not, we were going to the movies." I argued matter-of-factly without taking my eyes off pouring, "You trying to tell me you don't sneak candy into the movies because if you are, I'm calling nonsense." She didn't answer, just gnawed on her bottom lip while I poured the rest of the candies out into her hand then stashed the empty wrapper in my pocket.

"You're all locked and loaded," I noted then glanced over, "Ready Lopez?"

"Now _that's_ hot." Santana smirked, "Say it again." I just rolled my eyes and put on my game face.

"Target acquired?"

"Mhmm.."

"Commence attack."

"…"

"Saan, not me _her_. Whose side are you on?" I whisper-yelled when I felt a lone Skittle find its way down my shirt. I tried my best to glare at her, but even I couldn't shake off her goofy smile.

"Oops, sorry. Let me get that for you." She grinned devilishly and started shuffling towards me, but I was quick to nudge her back into her seat and swat away her wandering hand.

"You're a mess." I snickered once she was situated in her chair again and the rogue Skittle found its way out of my shirt and onto the floor. Santana just smirked again but kept her eyes focused on the _real _target.

XXXX

"Is everything okay?"

"Y-yeah, it's just..Mike, are those Skittles?"

"Yeah! You feel them too? I thought it was just me, I don't know where they're coming from!"

"Ow, there's another one.."

"It's probably some punk kid."

"Yeah..or a goofball and a scaredy cat."

"I wonder which one is which.."

"Britt, you're obviously the goofball."

"Damnit Santana, that one almost got me in the eye!"

"Taste the rainbow, bitch!"

"Wouldn't it be _see _the rainbow though, San? You don't taste with your eyes.."

"I'm shaking my head right now."

"I can't see, it's dark."

"I know, that's why I'm telling you.."

XXXX

After the movie let out, the four of us filtered out of the theatre with Quinn and Mike leaving Skittles scattered all over their seats and the floor beneath them as they stood. Santana and I just giggled as they glared. Well, Quinn glared Mike just chuckled and reached for Quinn's hand. By the way the blonde lit up at the gesture, I'm guessing that was the first time he ever did that.

"Awh, they're cute." I complimented as Santana and I trailed after them much like we did on our walk to the movies earlier. Santana just scrunched her nose and shoved her hands in her pockets, "Don't be jealous of them."

"I'm definitely not." Santana chuckled with the shake of her head.

XXXX

On the walk back to our cars, we ended up taking a detour that led us through the park. I'm pretty sure it was the natural musicians in us, I consider myself a musician my body is totally an instrument, because we found ourselves walking right into a random concert. I wouldn't really call it a_ real _concert, but there was a band set up playing live music and there were a few groups of people around swaying to the beat while others just stood around and watched. The area was lit with those white hanging lights like you'd see in faux-France that dipped from the trees and dipped between the street lamps that surrounded the make-shift stage.

Mike was first to ask Quinn if she wanted to dance, but she politely declined with a blush prevalent on her cheeks. I thought about asking Santana, but she didn't seem too interested in dancing. At least, not the kind of dancing Mike had in mind. I'm sure Santana wouldn't mind dancing with me if we were in some club somewhere, I don't doubt that.

"I'll dance with you," I shrugged then turned to Quinn, "If that's okay?"

"Go right ahead, Britt!" Quinn grinned and waved her hand for Mike and I to take the floor, or gravely pavement. I kind of figured that Mike was an awesome dancer just from watching the way he seemed to move normally. He was always gliding, always so smooth, even when all he was doing was walking with Quinn. Mike totally had moves!

That thought was only validated further when I offered my hand to him and we took our positions. I remember when I first started taking dance classes I'd always get frustrated with my partner because they could never keep up. Well, I guess it wasn't that they couldn't keep up it was more that they couldn't lead. It makes it so much easier to follow when you're following someone who knows what they're doing because someone who knows what they're doing makes dancing fun.

Mike definitely knew what he was doing.

It was kind of shocking to me because he didn't really look like a guy that could swing dance so well. If I hadn't seen him own the bar the night Santana and I tried to auction him off, I would've never guessed that he actually knew how to dance. His form was perfect, he didn't step on my toes not once, and he was a great leader.

Before I knew it, we were twirling about the dance floor effortlessly. Occasionally, he'd spin me and I'd catch a glimpse of Santana and Quinn watching from the sideline. Santana would have her fingers tucked under her jaw, her eyes focused in on us and Quinn would be leaning into her side, smirking, as she talked into her ear. Sometimes I'd see Santana smiling all bashful but other times I'd see her scowl at Quinn and try to elbow her while Quinn just laughed. They were always teasing each other so I'm sure that's what it was.

Within a minute or two, a small group had gathered around to watch Mike and I dance. I guess we both thrive on an audience because now that we knew people were watching, well _more _people, we incorporated more twirls and dips. The audience clapped and whistled as the song drew to a close while others scampered off to rejoin the bustling city streets.

"You're really good, Brittany!" Mike commended as he wiped his brow and smiled brightly.

"You too," I nodded happily through my ragged breathing.

"You want another dance?" He asked as the band started to pick up again, transitioning into another song that I recognized.

"Yea-"

"Actually," Santana's voice cut in causing my head to swivel; her and Quinn had somehow managed to sneak up behind us. Santana's eyes flickered from mine to Mike's then back to mine as she licked her lips, a bit of hope sparking in my belly, "I-uh-I think _Quinn_ wants her Boy Chang back."

"Ohh, okay." I nodded, surprised at how sad my tone was. It wasn't that I minded, Mike _is _Quinn's date and all, but I guess I was kind of hoping Santana was going to say something else. I'm not really sure what though.

_Well it's a big big city and it's always the same  
Can never be too pretty tell me your name  
Is it out of line if I were simply bold to say "Would you be mine"?_

_Because I may be a beggar and you may be the queen  
I know I may be on a downer I'm still ready to dream  
Though it's 3 o'clock, the time is just the time it takes for you to talk._

I moved to the side so that Quinn could take my position but the other blonde just rolled her eyes at Santana and smiled at me. "I think _Santana _wants to dance too."

"Q.." Santana hissed but Quinn didn't seem to notice her as she continued to smile.

"She likes this song," Quinn added then turned back to Mike as he led her into some slow swaying that matched perfectly to the beat of the song picking up. I just chuckled and glanced over at Santana who looked a mix of embarrassed and excited.

_So if you're lonely why'd you say you're not lonely  
Oh you're a silly girl, I know I hurt it so  
It's just like you to come and go _

_You know me no you don't even know me  
You're so sweet to try, oh my, you caught my eye,  
A girl like you's just irresistible_ "You like this song?"

"I may have heard it a couple times on Pandora.." She shrugged casually like she didn't want to make a big deal of actually liking something. Or maybe it was admitting that Quinn was right about something? I couldn't decide.

"I like this song too," I replied with a cheerful bounce on my toes then, out of curiosity, I held out my hand to her, "Wanna dance with me?"

To my surprise, she took my hand willingly and let me lead her further into the crowd of dancers that had gathered around us. I tried not getting too excited about it though, I'm still trying really hard not to scare her off.

_Well it's a big, big city and the lights are all out  
But it's as much as I can do you know to figure you out  
And I must confess, my heart's in broken pieces  
And my head's a mess_

"Hey, you're pretty good!" I complimented as we rounded the make-shift dance floor for the first time without anyone stepping on each other's feet. I was used to switching between leading and following, sometimes there weren't enough boys in dance class and sometimes girls just preferred dancing with other girls because they were better leaders, so our arrangement didn't really bother me.

"I try," She smiled coyly with the flutter of her lashes before she started giggling, "I'm no Mr. Suave over there but I know how to follow. I just shook my head and continued to sway with her, my hand resting firmly at her hip, hers clutching just to the side of my shoulder, while my other pressed at her warm palm as I guided her around. We still kept a pretty good distance, but even that was the closest we've ever been to each other when there wasn't any obnoxious flirting or life/death situation going on.

"Following is important," I replied as I lifted my hand and pushed her under it carefully, executing our first spin, "You're pretty good at that too."

And it's 4 in the morning, and I'm walking along  
Beside the ghost of every drinker here who has ever done wrong  
And it's you, woo hoo  
That's got me going crazy for the things you do

"Awh, look at them San.." I cooed when I caught a glance of Mike and Quinn smiling their dopy grins, "They're so-"

"Cute." She finished for me with a snicker causing me to look back at her, hoping to catch sight of chocolate brown eyes. They flickered away quickly though, like our eyes were on the same side of a magnet.

I don't know if you've heard, but _opposites _attract, not similarities.

Then again, I think similarities bring people together too! Santana and I wouldn't be dancing together right now if we _both _didn't like the song playing, but who am I to defy the laws of gravity? Or is that physics? Whatever.

_So if you're crazy, I don't care, you amaze me  
Oh you're a stupid girl, oh me, oh my, you talk  
I die, you smile, you laugh, I cry  
And only, a girl like you could be lonely  
And it's a crying shame, if you would think the same  
A boy like me's just irresistible  
_

It was beneath the tacky hanging lights, bodies swaying casually around us to the steady rhythm of drums and a couple guitars, a cool Spring breeze rustling guys' ties and ladies' skirts, and the sound of taxis whizzing by just barely overheard above the lead vocals that I really saw Santana.

I look at the bartender all the time, sometimes when I don't even realize it, but there's a difference between looking at someone and actually _seeing _them. I'm not sure what the difference is just yet, but I'm pretty sure it's important and I'm pretty sure I'm doing it now.

I thought back on our previous conversations had earlier in the night and noted what had Santana walling herself up and what didn't. I knew I was getting somewhere with her and I was proud of our growing friendship, but as the song went on, I found myself listening to the words more than just swaying along to the beat and I couldn't help but notice something.

There isn't a song that's more fitting for the bartender than this.

_So if you're lonely, why'd you say you're not lonely  
Oh you're a silly girl, I know I hurt it so  
It's just like you to come and go_

_And know me, no you don't even know me  
You're so sweet to try oh my, you caught my eye  
A girl like you's just irresistible_

As the song ended, my hands dropped from her frame carelessly while she took a tiny step back, mirroring my stance. I tried to ignore the tingling sensations she left at my shoulder and in my palm, similar sensations I felt earlier when she grabbed my wrist in the theater. I was just amazed that even through my thick sweater I could feel the warmth she emitted.

"Thanks for that," I smiled bashfully before realizing how hard I was actually smiling, "For the-uh-dance, I mean. Thanks for the dance."

"Yeah," She nodded, matching my smile before she let it falter, "Sorry I couldn't do any of those fancy spins that Chang got you to do."

I just shook my head and waved her apology away, "I don't care about fancy spins."

"No?" She questioned like she didn't believe me, "I'm sure it's boring dancing with someone who can't match your skill level."

It's funny because she's right, it _is _pretty boring. But it's Santana, nothing about Santana is boring. I think reading books are boring but I'm sure if I were to read one with Santana, I wouldn't find it so boring anymore.

"It is," I answered honestly with a lift of my shoulder, "But dancing with you is different."

"A good different?" She asked, her tone verging on a whisper.

I just grinned and let myself nod only once, "Yeah, I think so.."

* * *

A/N Song used: Whistle for the Choir by The Fratellis


	12. Chapter 12 Avoidance

A/N Sorry for the wait, having two jobs is kind of a writing cockblock.. but in celebration of getting canon Brittana back soon, enjoy a long chapter!

* * *

CHAPTER 12

For being stuck on a lumpy old couch for almost three months, familiar with the very special way the springs like to dig into my lower back and how I can't really extend my legs without having my feet dangle off the other end, that night I slept comfortably. I didn't even mind the achiness that usually plagues me during the most part of my morning because all I could think about was Santana, Santana, Santana.

Eating Hawaiian pizza with Santana.

Watching a scary movie with Santana.

Throwing Skittles at Fabang, that's Fabray and Chang, with Santana.

Walking in the park with Santana.

Dancing with Santana.

Just being near Santana.

I'm pretty sure I've got a problem, maybe borderline obsession? No, not an obsession, that sounds too drastic and also creepy. I'm not creepy. I just have maybe a teeny tiny harmless school girl crush on my coworker, that's normal. That happens; it's nothing to be ashamed of, right?

XXXX

Tuesday was our first day back to work from our super awesome weekend. Santana hadn't returned any of my phone calls or texts from Monday, but I just assumed that she was busy sleeping or running errands or something. I tried not to dwell on it too much because I still had the memories of our Sunday night spent together fresh in my mind and currently on repeat.

Tuesday was also the first time I had seen Santana since that night and I couldn't help but notice how quiet she was during our shift. We don't usually have a lot of down time to talk unless we come in early to prep, but for the first time since I've worked there, she wasn't there when I came in early. I thought maybe she had been somewhere in the storage room or at the piano again, but nothing.

It wasn't until about ten minutes until opening when she strolled in, tight black jeans hugging her ass perfectly and the black leather vest adorning her torso. She waved to me followed by a meek, "Hey Britt!" before walking behind the bar to get situated like nothing changed. I couldn't decide if I was acting weird or if it was her, but I chose to brush it off and prep for the guests instead. What was there that changed anyway? It was only one dance, it wasn't like there was some type of feelings confession, it was just a dance.

I wanted to open up some type conversation because it was just weird not having Santana at least acting flirty with me. I wanted to ask how her Monday went and if she slept as well as I did Sunday night, if she saw my texts messages and missed calls or if she left her phone in her room again, what did she have for lunch or dinner since she usually misses breakfast because she wakes up so late, if she did anything exciting, watch anything good on tv, but she just gave off that vibe that she didn't feel like talking today so I mostly kept the questions to myself. I didn't want to bother her if she wasn't trying to be bothered.

XXXX

"Hey Britt?"

"Yes?" I answered a little too excitedly. I couldn't help it, she hadn't said a word to me in at least two hours! Santana just quirked her brow then shook her head like she was trying to fight off a smile or laugh. Either would be appreciated, at least I'd be the cause of it. She had two bottles in her hands for a drink order that the waitress in front of her was waiting to take out to a guest when she nodded over to the storage room.

"While we're slow, bring out a case of glasses. It's on the top shelf of the third stand."

"Top shelf, huh?" I joked, crossing my arms as I rested my hip against the counter and smiled her way, "Because you're a shorty and can't reach?"

She kept her eyes focused on the drink she was making and answered in a tone that she hadn't ever used on me, "No, it's because I told you to."

My smile instantly fell while I felt my bottom lip begin to jut out involuntarily. Her tone was so sharp, so harsh, and I had only ever heard her speak that way to rowdy customers. For her to use it on me, unprovoked at that, left me confused. I kept telling myself that she probably had a bad first half of the day and her grumpy mood followed her to work, but that doesn't mean she can take it out on me. I didn't do anything; in fact, I'm trying to make her day better!

"Wow..that wasn't rude at all." I grumbled, my tone not nearly as happy as when we finally started talking and moved quickly to the storage room without giving her a second look. We didn't speak to each other again for the rest of the night; I didn't really have anything to say to her after she snapped at me like that and she didn't seem too bothered by it since she was back to her flirty ways, only they were directed at just the customers and never at me.

XXXX

I spent the rest of that night trying to figure out what the hell I could've done to make Santana so snappy like that, but I came up with nothing. I had been my usual self, despite the fact that my crush seemed to be growing, I kept my feelings in check so I couldn't understand what was going on with her. It kind of hurt, actually. Coming to terms with the thought that maybe I have some feelings for the bartender, only to have her act so strangely the very next day.

It wasn't just that one time she snapped at me, it was more so the combination of it all: the ignored texts messages, the unreturned phone calls, the quietness, it wasn't like Santana. It felt like she was trying to avoid me, but for what? I don't know.

The only good thing about that Tuesday night back to work was when I made her smile. It was so genuine and I wasn't really doing anything special, just talking with a customer about the weather, when I glanced her way just in time for her to avert her eyes. I didn't have to look into those to know that she had been staring though, I saw the smile and I knew it was because of me.

She looked so conflicted and so quiet the whole shift, that that one little smile gave me some hope. Hope that maybe Santana was just having a crappy day, or crappy past couple of days, and she didn't know how to tell everyone that without being a jerk.

Hope that I wouldn't have to start keeping count of her smiles; I didn't want those to be something so rare that I had to number them for my memory.

And hope that I hadn't made everything awkward by dancing with her in the park that Sunday night.

XXXX

Wednesday's shift ended up being just like Tuesday's, only worse.

I took a chance and asked if Santana wanted to go out to lunch with me, it was early afternoon so I _knew _she'd be awake by now and since we didn't have to make our weekly trip to Q-zar's anymore for Quinn, it seemed like I had a very high chance she'd say yes. Besides, I felt like she kind of owed me for last night and what better way than having lunch?

Sadly, the only response I got back was a text reading _I can't_.

I didn't let it get to me though, it wasn't like it was the first time Santana hadn't wanted to hang out with me, that's become a common thing lately and I would be lying if I said that I didn't hate it. It had only been three days since Santana started acting all weird, but to me it felt like a lifetime! I mostly talk to Quinn and Santana, but now that Quinn has Mike she isn't always available. Santana is, or she was. I didn't realize how much time we spent together until we weren't spending _any_ time together.

I guess there could've been a good excuse as to why Santana couldn't have lunch with me, I'm sure of it, but I still secretly hoped that she'd change her mind anyway. It was getting tiring defending someone in my head when I really didn't know if they deserved my loyalty though.

Instead, I grabbed a quick bite to eat on my own before heading into Sloppy Babies to perfect the routines I was nearly close to finishing. With how things are looking, the sets would be ready for Quinn and Santana to see by Friday.

XXXX

Later that night was when things got a little heated, and not in the super hot teasingly way that I kind wish would happen either. Just like the day before, Santana strolled into work just ten minutes before opening leaving me to do all the prep work. Being that I was really _supposed _to be doing all that work by myself this whole time anyway, it made me a little sad that I actually had to do it alone for two days in a row. I wouldn't have minded, doing all the dirty work for her, if she was a little appreciative about it.

I was probably asking too much though, this is my job and it's what I'm supposed to do. Why would she have to thank me for doing my job? I guess I was still hoping that things would magically fix themselves when I wasn't even sure where they fell to a part.

Any type of conversation we had during the shift was solely work-related and if we weren't asking each other which drink was for who or Santana asking me to get something from the storage room, we weren't talking at all. The tension was way pass tolerable at this point and at the first sight of a break between crowds, I mustered up some courage and confronted her.

"Hey."

The word tumbled out of my mouth pathetically, _so much for courage_. She looked up from the spilled beer she was wiping up and raised a brow as if saying _hi _in response then averted her eyes back to the counter. I found myself shuffling nervously in my spot, all that courage I thought I gathered up minutes ago slowly vanishing the longer I stood near her, "Can I ask you a question?" She didn't say anything, just pressed her lips tightly together and continued to wipe at the already-dry counter. I felt my throat tighten at her silence but I had to know, "We used to hang out all the time and I really miss being your friend-"

"Britt." She sighed tiredly, stopping her circular pattern and gripped the towel tight in her fist, then parted her lips like she was about to say something else.

I didn't let her speak though, she wasn't going to talk me out of what I wanted to know, not this time, "Did I do something wrong?"

And there it was, the question that had been camping out in my head since Monday night was finally out in the open. My heart was racing and despite how warm it was, I felt the beads of sweat that started to collect at the back of my neck turn icy. I didn't take my eyes off of her though she was still looking down; I was going to get an answer out of her, even if it was just a twitch of her lips or an eye roll.

She remained a silent statue. She was so still, so quiet, that if it wasn't for her chest rising and falling in time with her breath I would've thought she actually was a statue.

"I don't know." Was her answer after a couple long, silent minutes.

That wasn't good enough for me. Saying _I don't know_ is like being too lazy or too afraid to say what you really need to and I wasn't having it. It's not fair for her to try and weasel her way out of talking, there was a reason why she was acting so strange and she was going to tell me it!

"What do you mean you _don't know_?" I muttered, trying to keep my tone free of my frustration.

"I just don't, Brittany," The way she said my full name like that sent a shiver down my spine and not in a good way. She snatched up the wet towel and threw it at the bucket set on the back counter with a little too much force as she huffed, "God, why do you always have an answer to everything!"

All that hesitance I had before starting up the conversation turned into even more frustration as I watched her try and spin this on me, like _I _was the one who was making things difficult.

"Well, when you're friends with someone as hot and cold as you then you'll understand why answers are necessary!" I shot back, following after her when she tried to walk away. Neither of us could leave the bar so there really wasn't much place for her to run, but she still refused to look at me and _that _had my skin burning even more. I was sick and tired of staring at the back of her head that when I yelled for her to quit being a coward and look at me, I wish I would've kept my mouth shut instead.

"We are not going to fucking do this right now," She snapped bitterly, eyes boring into me and for the first time, it didn't give me this fluttery feeling in my stomach. Instead, that feeling was replaced by a sharp jab.

"Fine!" I grumbled in response, throwing my hands up in defeat, "If you want to keep avoiding the problem, whatever that even is, fine!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

At that, we both went back to our ends of the counter and didn't glance at each other not once for about an hour and a half. I was working solely off the bubbling anger she instilled in the pit of my stomach that it wasn't hard to keep from looking her way. I would've lasted longer if it wasn't for a familiar looking bottle blonde cozying up at Santana's end of the bar, the two smiling and laughing like nothing ever happened.

XXXX

I tried my best to ignore them, but that bottle blonde's laugh was just as annoying as I remembered and Santana still looked as charming as ever. By the time Quinn came around on her break, I had reached my maximum pisstivity level.

"Awh, Britt don't pout!" Quinn teased and reached across the table with a warm hand, "I'm not laughing _at _you-"

"You're laughing _with _me, I know.." I sighed indifferently.

"No, I'm not doing that either." She chuckled, tapping her fingers on the back of my hand before she withdrew completely, "I just think the _situation_is funny."

"But it's not funny..this is serious business." I grumbled and shuffled back in my seat then crossed my arms. How is fighting with your best friend for the first time funny? That's horrible!

"Serious business?" Quinn giggled, "I don't think I'd call you being jealous because Santana _looked _in the direction of some blonde girl serious business. Silly? Maybe. Cute? Yeah. Hilarious? Definitely. But serious business? I don't think so."

"I'm not jealous," I huffed out of frustration, "And she didn't just _look_ at her, Q, they talked and laughed too! I just don't see why she had to look at her like that."

"Like what?"

"You know Santana, you know her looks."

Quinn just squinted her eyes and shook her head a little.

"Her look, Quinn! She does that thing with her eyes and they do that thing in the light and she does that thing with her lips and-"

"Yeah, you're not really being too specific here because right now it just sounds like Santana was doing her job and trying to get tips. She's good at her job, Britt, we all are."

"No, it's different with that girl. I'm telling you!"

"I doubt it, I just think you're overacting."

"Whatever," I grumbled, annoyed that Quinn wasn't getting it, "I'm not jealous."

"I didn't say you were."

"You didn't have to!" I snapped, "You just have that look."

"What's with you and these looks?"

"Nothing! Just quit laughing at me, I'm not jealous."

Quinn only laughed, tried covering her mouth with her hand when I glared at her, but then failed and went back to laughing at me openly.

I just rolled my eyes and glanced back at Santana, trying to be as subtle as possible, only to see the bottle blonde reach out and wrap her fingers around the bartender's wrist. I clenched my jaw and shook my head, "I'm not jealous."

XXXX

Thursday started off looking a little brighter than the past few days. I awoke to Sam saying something about a friend dropping something off for me and that he had set it on the kitchen counter before he vanished into the bedroom to get ready for work.

I pushed myself up off the couch, which regained its uncomfortable-ness, and headed to the kitchen to see the small package addressed to me. I ripped at the brown paper wrapping until I revealed a gift box then tore off the lid of that too.

First thing I saw was a turquoise post-it note with black marker scribbled onto it that read:

_Happy 3 months at Sloppy Babies – San_

I unstuck the note and placed it delicately next to the shreds of paper wrapping and reached in to lift out the shirt. It was a simple black and white striped cotton tee shirt with a sophisticated looking cat wearing a beret printed on the center which looked similar to the one she ripped up upon my first day of training with her. I remember that I told her that it had been my favorite shirt, but I really never had a favorite shirt before.

Well, not until right about now.

I still wanted to be upset with her for yesterday, but even_ I_ had to admit that the gesture was really sweet. The idea that she had kept track of how long we've been working together made my stomach do a little flip. I set the shirt back in the box and went for my phone. I contemplated whether I should call or text, but I realized that it probably would be easier just to text.

_I got your package. I love it, thanks! – Britt Britt_

Within seconds, my phone buzzed with her reply.

_I owed you a shirt_. _– San_

For some reason, I found myself smiling at her text. After all this time, she still sucked at accepting gratitude. The day that I hear her finally say _you're welcome _will be the day when pigs fly for sure!

I didn't say anything after receiving her text, just set my phone back on the coffee table and busied myself with looking for something to eat. She was still on my list and a shirt wasn't going to be her only way of apology. I had high hopes for the day with Santana starting off relatively nice, it was a welcomed change, but I knew it was too good to be true.

XXXX

I arrived to Sloppy Babies early as usual secretly hoping that I'd find Santana humming some nameless tune as she lugged wooden crates from the storage room to the bar counter. She'd smile brightly as I hopped down the sloped stairs, heading straight for her, before pulling out her handkerchief to dab at her sweaty brow. Or maybe she'd still be in the storage room taking inventory when I'd pop my head in and call out a greeting which would probably scare her half to death because for some reason, Santana is super jumpy when being sneaked up on.

However, seeing Santana in any of those scenarios was not the case today.

There was a taller, paler, brunette behind the counter organizing tumblers as I walked up. Her eyes were focused on the glasses in her hands as she dusted them, but I made my presence known when I realized she most definitely was not Santana.

"Who are you?" I questioned, to my surprise my tone sounded clipped rather than coming out polite. It wasn't that I was upset with her, but more so the situation. I wanted to see Santana, not this girl. She wasn't Santana. I guess my tone took the girl by surprise too; she jolted her head and stared back with this doe-eyed look.

"I-I'm Marley." She practically whimpered as she set down the glass in her hand and began picking at the drying towel nervously.

"Where's Santana?" I involuntarily scanned around me hoping that maybe she was hiding out somewhere or that she'd gone to the bathroom, but there was no sign of the bartender anywhere. The usual spot she'd set her purse and jacket were vacant.

"Uhm, she called out sick." Marley answered quietly, "Sue told me that I had to help out back here because the only other bartender is Quinn and we need her for the performance." I just nodded at the response, not really sure what else there was for me to do. Sue was the boss so whatever she says goes, but I couldn't help but feel a little betrayed by Santana. Well, maybe betrayed is too drastic but she didn't even bother to let me know that she wasn't going to show up for her shift. She didn't even let me know she was sick.

Suddenly, all her weird behavior kind of made sense with her being sick. I still wanted to be mad though, there isn't any kind of excuse for the way she spoke to me, but I _did _feel like cutting her a little slack. I'd be grumpy too if I was coming down with something.

"Are you even old enough to work back here?" I teased trying to ease the tension I'd caused between Marley and I.

Her lips pressed tightly together as if she wasn't trying to smile while her cheeks flushed and she went to nod, "I'm 23."

"Huh, could've fooled me!" I joked and went to prepping the rest of the bar. Not only was it the first time Santana had called out on me, but it was also the first time I was working the bar without her. I felt all the responsibility of making sure we had everything we needed weigh heavily on my shoulders as opening time grew closer. Three months is a lot of time to learn everything there is to know about the bar though and knowing that I had a really good teacher eased my nerves.

XXXX

Lucky for Marley and I, it was a relatively easy shift. Not many people nursed their drinks at the bar, but found themselves being drawn to the seating area where Quinn was singing away. They were like flies to that bright zappy light when Quinn was performing. Since there weren't too many customers near us, Marley and I fell into light conversation which was something I missed so much when it came to working with Santana.

Actually, I just missed Santana in general. I hated not being able to chat with her or hang out like used to. Hopefully her night off will be enough time to kick whatever sickness plagued her and she'll back to work tomorrow good as new.

By the time it was time for Quinn's break, Marley and I had become fast friends. She still couldn't take the place of Santana but her company was much needed. Other than Quinn and Santana and sometimes Kurt, most of the waitresses still treated me as an outsider, a newbie. Marley was a sweet girl, very welcoming, so it was nice.

"Where's Santana?" Quinn asked as she slid up on the bar stool in front of me and waited for me to finish pouring her a glass of tea.

"Marley said she called out sick," I shrugged, still a little bummed by that.

"Ha! Sick in the head maybe," Quinn snickered as she took the straw to her lips.

"Oh God, _that_ bad? Should I-uh-_we _go check on her to make sure she's alright?" I suggested worriedly. Quinn's brow rose at that as if to say _I don't think so_. I let out a sigh, my eyes glancing down Marley's end of the bar out of habit, "Maybe I should call her? I could bring her some soup or something on the way home?"

"Soup at 2am?" She questioned as her smile turned into a smirk, "I'm sure she's fine. I talked to her last night, she didn't sound so sick then which is why I doubt she's actually sick now."

"She's not really sick?" I pouted and went to scratch at my head, "But, why would she lie?"

Quinn only let out a tired, almost frustrated sigh, but it wasn't really directed to me I don't think, "It's Santana; she does a lot of stupid stuff when she doesn't have her head on straight."

That confused me and before I knew it, I was venting about the absent bartender and how she's been acting so weird with me lately. Quinn sat and listened like she was soaking in every detail. It was always comforting venting to Q about things like Sam and Santana, she never judged or made me feel like I was a bother to her.

"That's why I really do think she's sick, what other excuse is there for her to act so strange?" I questioned but it sounded like I was more so speaking aloud, "I tried talking to her yesterday, you know, try to get the bottom of it all but she snapped at me. It was the second time she rose her voice on me this week. Q, she never does that. But then this morning I get a package from her and that was so sweet of her. I don't get how she can be so up and down, I don't know why she's doing that, but when I heard that she called out sick..I-I just thought, I don't know. It makes me sad."

"This is the perfect _I told you so_ moment." Quinn grinned, shaking her head.

I just stared at her blankly, not really catching her drift.

"Britt, you got it _bad_."

"Got what?" I asked with my brow quirked, clearly confused, "I don't have anything, Sam's clean but it's been forever since we even-"

"You like Santana," Quinn cut in like it was obvious then started grinning, "No, not even _like_ but like _like like_, Britt."

Heat rushed to my cheeks and crept up the back of my neck and scurried to the tips of my ears as my jaw dropped a little at what she said. It wasn't even a question, an accusation, but a freaking statement, a fact!

"I-uhhh-I," I stammered but I didn't really know what I was trying to say. Instead, I licked my lips and averted my gaze to my lap then chuckled, "Didn't we establish this already?"

"Sure, but this time you can't even _try _and deny it." Quinn laughed, shoulders bobbing as she giggled, "I knew something was up when you guys barely even looked at each other after that dance in the park. Then on the walk home? Not one peep from either of you! I had to keep checking behind me to make sure you guys were still there."

By the time she was finished listing off things I already knew, my skin wasn't burning nearly as hot as it was before. I wish I knew how to keep from being so transparent. Quinn, just like everyone else in the world, could remind me like I was a children's book and I kind of hated it. I hated that I wasn't mysterious like Santana, I'm sure no one pesters her about things like this or even tries to bring them up because she's Santana, she's private about her feelings and what she thinks.

"Now all this tension between you two, I don't get it." She added, "What happened after Mike and I went to our car? Did you guys kiss or something?"

"No, we didn't kiss." I whispered with the shake of my head, "It was normal, we ended the night like we would any other night."

"With sex?"

"No!" I huffed out of frustration, "We don't do any of that, we're friends. She just wants me as her friend. That's all, just friends." My tone took on something sad as I felt my chest tighten harshly at the way the words fell from my lips, like I was trying to convince myself rather than convince Quinn.

I was sort of calmed down, _sort of_, when Quinn stopped and rested her chin in her hands, "Does she know?"

I shook my head and let out a tired sigh, "I don't really think I stand a chance."

"Are you kidding me?" She deadpanned, "Britt, she's stuck with you longer than anyone I know that she's fooled around with! She's taken you for ice cream for God's sake! She even went grocery shopping with you. Don't even get me started on the Sloppy Babies matchbooks."

"What? What do the matchbooks have to do with anything?" I questioned but Quinn just gave me that same _are you serious _look.

"Santana used to give them out to girls like they were candy but since she's started hanging out with you, she doesn't even carry them anymore."

I felt my stomach do a flip while my limbs buzzed, "Really?"

"Not a single one," Quinn replied with soft eyes, "I've never seen Santana so _attached_ before."

I let what Quinn was saying roll around in my head, but there were so many cons to Santana that the pros, even ones that I tried making up to be bigger than they actually were, got totally crushed. I wanted to believe that there was a special connection that Santana and I have, but I've been burned by my optimistic thinking before. I focused my eyes at the table we were sitting at and started drawing patterns with my fingertip, "It wouldn't work out. You see how she is at work and you know about Sam, I just can't go through something like that again. I mean, you said so yourself that Santana doesn't really do feelings-"

"I said she was a dumbass about them, I didn't say she didn't _do_ them."

I found myself frowning at the table and Quinn reaching over to still my hand so that I'd look up at her.

"I honestly believe that you're different, that you're good for her, that you'd be good together." She said earnestly, "I think Santana just hasn't found that one person that would take their time with her, you know? I think that if she really genuinely tried at a relationship, it could work for her."

"Has she said anything to you?" I questioned quietly, "About me.."

She just shook her head, but I got the feeling that even if Santana did talk to Quinn about me, Quinn still wouldn't say a word. With how our week has been, I would've thought that she would talk to Quinn but I guess even Q isn't worthy of Santana's deepest, darkest secrets.

"Well, it wouldn't matter what she says anyway. She can't stand to be in the same room as me," I grumbled and slumped my head in my hands, "She went as far as faking sick and calling out, Quinn, I think I scared her away. I can't defend myself against her when she can't even talk to me without feeling the need to get snappy."

"Oh Britt.." She cooed as I felt her fingers lace through my hair soothingly, "Do you want me to talk to her? Smack some sense into her maybe?"

"No, no violence.." I mumbled to the counter earning a giggle from Quinn.

"Well, tomorrow you're supposed to present your routines and Santana _has _to be there per Sue's orders. She can't sneak out of it so maybe you guys can talk then?" I had totally forgot about my plan to present, but at its mention and Santana's, my belly filled with anticipation. Santana was the one who fought so fearlessly for my dancing to be incorporated, there wasn't a chance that she'd try and avoid me for too.

"Yeah, maybe.." I answered as I quickly thought of ways that I could tweak the routines even more than I already had. I needed to impress the both of them, but my job wasn't the only thing on the line now.

XXXX

Come Friday afternoon, I was totally pumped for the performance. I had my mind set on rocking the shit out of it and there was no way Santana would be able to ignore me anymore. Even Sam grew a little suspicious of my super upbeat behavior.

"I know we're not exactly on good terms anymore, Britt, but you'd tell me if something was wrong with you right?" He asked skeptically, leaning on the door jam with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Doubt it," I shrugged and continued getting ready.

"Fine, I'm just going to come out and say it." He huffed with the shake of his head, shaggy blonde hair tussling, "Are you on drugs?"

I stopped dead in my tracks and spun around to face him, "What?"

"Are you on drugs," He repeated slowly, "You're acting really weird, I haven't seen you so _energetic_ in days. If you're on drugs, that's cool I guess, but-"

"I'm not on drugs, Sam." I dismissed with the roll of my eyes.

"Ohh, okay then." He mumbled and disappeared with slumped shoulders.

"What the hell.." I muttered aloud, shaking my head with disbelief. I didn't have time for Sam's worrying, not when I had an audience to impress in an hour. Not when so much was at stake here, like my friendship with Santana. Sam would just have to step aside.

XXXX

By the time I arrived to Sloppy Babies, Quinn was the only one present. It wasn't really a surprise to me; they're never _both _on time, one of them is always running a little later than the other. Quinn greeted me happily though and told me that I could practice up on stage while we waited for Santana. She promised not to look, unsure if I was nervous or not, but I didn't mind. Quinn was going to see sooner or later anyway.

Time ticked by slow, like _really _slow, as we waited for Santana. I tried not watching the clock but it was hard when Quinn kept huffing over the bartender's delay. We had been waiting for nearly forty-five minutes when Quinn finally hit her breaking point.

"I'm going to make a call, Britt, I'll be right back." She called as she tapped away at her phone and walked closer to the entrance, the furthest point from the stage. I nodded and took a seat at the hardwood floor, stretching my legs even more than they already were, and then laid back. From the corner of my eye, I could see Quinn slowly starting to pace back and forth as she spoke to whoever she was speaking to on the phone.

My guess was Santana.

I was out of earshot so I couldn't hear; just see her toss up her hand like she does when she's frustrated with something. I fitted my hands behind my head for some cushion and stared up at the ceiling only catching pieces of Quinn's conversation:

_This is important!_

_Get your head out of your ass!_

_Yes you do!_

I knew it was Santana by then, just because Quinn almost always uses that second line on the bartender.

I tilted my head in her direction again only to see her shoving her phone in her pocket and walking briskly back to the table she had been sitting at earlier.

She looked _pissed_.

I sat up and scooted to the edge of the stage, about to jump down and see if she was okay when a familiar brunette stormed in. It had been raining that afternoon, so over Santana's usual uniform of jeans and a vest, she wore a dark grey hooded raincoat. She still looked a little damp, the ends of her hair clumping together in wet dreads while rain droplets rolled down her arms and to the floor.

My stomach did another one of those flips at seeing the bartender and all that excitement, anxiousness, from earlier came rushing back. Everything was a little more real now that she was there. I wanted to say hi and maybe ask how she was feeling since she called out _sick_ yesterday, but before I could get a word out, her and Quinn were going at it again.

"I said be here an _hour _ago, Santana, what the hell is this?" Quinn snapped as she stood and faced the brunette.

"I like to make an entrance." She said nonchalantly, lifting a shoulder as she stripped from her jacket and draped it over the back of a chair.

"My foot's gunna make an entrance if you don't quit-"

"Now Q, if you're foot's up there how am I supposed to get my head out?"

Quinn didn't think Santana's comeback was as funny as Santana though as her face grew serious, "I don't know what the hell is going on with you, but I would've expected you to get it together for Brittany. This is important, Santana, this is important to her."

Santana's gaze flicked over to me for about half a millisecond, her lips pursed, before she sighed and took a seat silently looking defeated.

"Okay," Quinn exhaled mostly to herself then looked up at me, "You can start whenever you're ready."

"Sure," I nodded, already about to bust with anticipation.

XXXX

Just as quickly as I started, it was all over. All that planning, the practicing, the tweaked routines, all of it came down to this moment. When the music shut off and I had finally caught my breath, I looked down at my audience.

I didn't want to look at them during the routine, well I didn't want to look at _one _of them, in fear that I would get too caught up in staring or trying to interpret their facial expressions. I was confident in my dancing, it was the only thing that I was ever completely sure that I was good at, but I knew the Terrible Two had a job to do and they wouldn't cut me any slack.

Sue only accepts the best. Nothing but perfection.

I had to be perfection. I didn't want to let anyone down, so I shuffled over to the edge and sat down to face them. My eyes flickered from Quinn's to Santana's, attempting to read their minds since their facial features were so unreadable.

Quinn moved to whisper something in Santana's ear, she covered her mouth so I couldn't read her lips but I could tell by the subtle twitch at Santana's lips that whatever she had to say wasn't necessarily bad.

Quinn leaned back in her chair and smiled proudly, "That was amazing, Britt!"

Finally hearing the verdict felt like a million pounds of weight lifted from my shoulders, I felt like I could breath easily again, I felt like I could do anything.

"Sue is going to be so happy with it," Quinn added and glanced to her right at Santana, "Right?"

"Definitely," Santana answered shortly. She didn't look proud or happy, turned on or sexually frustrated, she didn't even look pissed. She didn't look _anything_. She was emotionless. I really hoped that my dancing would finally break something in her to get her to start talking again, but she sat rigid in her seat. Though her response was positive, she looked uninterested.

Quinn on the other hand was ecstatic! She was jumping up from her chair and rushing over to hug me before saying that she was going to talk to Sue. She spoke and left so quickly that my mind couldn't adjust fast enough to the fact that it was just Santana and I, alone in the big empty lounge.

She didn't look at me as I approached the table and reached for my duffle bag with my uniform in it. I situated the strap on my shoulder while she stared down at her phone like looking at me might turn her to stone. I bit down on my lip harshly and pulled down the hem of my tank that had ridden up when I jumped down for the stage and sighed, "I'm gunna go change."

"Sure, Britt." She answered quietly, eyes still glued to her phone. I just nodded and walked towards the restrooms, my stomach doing those stupid flips again but all for the wrong reasons.

As I changed out of my clothes, I vowed that I'd get to the bottom of this thing tonight. I was _not _going to go through a whole shift of awkward tension without knowing what the hell I did to deserve it! I tugged up my jeans and fastened the button and zipper with a whole new kind of mindset. So far I felt like Santana had the upper hand but roles were definitely going to reverse. I was going to regain the control.

XXXX

I stormed over to the bar, my confidence level off the charts, but when I got close enough I saw that she was nowhere in sight. I knew she hadn't left because her purse and raincoat were stuffed messily in her little cubby beneath the bar counter. I was just about to spin around to head for the storage room when she appeared in the door way with a crate of tequila in her arms.

"Santana, we need to talk." I announced as she moved to set the crate down on the counter.

"What about?" She had her back to me, busy with cracking open the crate and pulling out different brands of liquor.

"You know what," I sighed but she just huffed and walked back into the storage room, "What did I do to upset you? Why are you avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?" I followed after her, determined to get an answer to at least one of those questions.

She remained silent as she reached up for a box on a higher shelf, the tips of her fingers just barely scraping against the bottom of the crate.

I tried to keep my eyes from drifting to the small of her back, the way her leather vest rose a couple inches as she extended her arms to reach, revealing smooth caramel colored skin. My mouth was most definitely _not _watering at the sight and my eyes definitely did _not _drift even lower to her perfect as she rose to her tippy toes.

I was mad, but damn, she's still so, so hot.

"Answer me, damnit!" I snapped when I regained focus on the issue at hand, "I want to know what the fuck I did because this, _whatever _it is that's going on, isn't fair!"

She finally spun around to face me, long dark hair whipping over her shoulder as she turned, her dark eyes boring into me so intensely that I swore she was looking into my soul or something. Her lips parted to speak but before I could fall under her spell, movement above her caught my attention and I found my body switching into auto pilot again.

"San!"

Everything happened so fast and so slow all at once that before I registered it, Santana was sandwiched between me and the shelf, my arms extended above us supporting the heavy weight of the crate that she had previously tried wiggling out of its place. Her eyes were squeezed shut with her shoulders tensed as her body seemed to shake. We were so close now that I could feel her chest rise and fall in time with her quick pants. My arms burned with the amount of strength I was exerting to keep the crate above us, to keep the crate from knocking Santana out, to protect her.

Before turning to face me, maybe finally about to give me some damn answers, she must've moved so fast that she forgot about the crate or misjudged its position thinking it was okay to move her hands from under it. I could just picture the crate falling on her, cracking Santana's skull knocking her out cold, with broken glass and wasted liquor surrounding her limp body.

There was no way in hell that was about to happen.

I guess that's where the auto pilot kicked in and my naturally quick reflexes were greatly appreciated. Mostly, it was just sheer, dumb luck. I could've been a second too late, a centimeter off to the right, or maybe to the left, I could've missed the crate completely.

But I didn't.

Somehow, I managed to get there in time. I didn't know how I did it.

"Santana," I whispered, our faces just inches away from each other's, "Are you-"

She slowly opened her eyes causing me to stop speaking as her breathing slowed. She stared directly into my eyes, there wasn't really any other choice because of how close we were, but I didn't mind it. She looked so damn scared and relieved as her eyes moved quickly back and forth between mine. I thought that maybe she was about to go into some sort of panic attack, but before I could even say her name, her hands were cupping my cheeks. A new jolt of electricity shot through me as her thumbs pressed gently into my cheek bones, warmth radiating from her palms to my flushed face. She pulled me close her, so close that I could faintly smell the minty-ness of her Chapstick. I was so close I could probably count every single one of her eyelashes if I wanted to, and honestly it was overwhelming, being so far away from Santana then all of a sudden so close. It was too much to handle all at once like that.

Her breathing picked up again, her chest pressing wonderfully into mine as she drew me in even closer, our noses nudging.

Then, as if she _hadn't_ been avoiding me for nearly a week, she kissed me.

* * *

A/N Whoop, there it is..thoughts? You'll get more of what the hell Santana was thinking in the next chapter.


	13. Chapter 13 Conflicted

CHAPTER 13

Waking up on Monday morning fully rested and hangover-free was pretty odd, almost as odd as thinking I just heard birds chirping, like what_ is_ that? Where do birds even have a place to sit and sing their stupid annoying songs? I guess the patio, but when the hell did they ever do that?

I hate birds, birds hate me, it's a mutual thing.

I swear if they shit on my new cushions, I'm buying a cat and I'm gunna let that sucker out on them. No mercy.

Still, the sound was kind of calming today like I might've actually even _liked_ it! I rolled out from bed with this dopy grin on my face, also pretty odd, and made my way into the bathroom not wincing once at how the chilly floor shocked my toasty feet.

I brushed my teeth humming that damn song that I can never get out of my head, eyeing my reflection warily wondering why I felt so different.

I felt light. I felt free. I felt _happy_.

I wiped at my mouth with a hand towel and tossed it in the hamper before returning to my staring. It was like I was a completely different person, who I saw staring back was definitely not the same one from yesterday or the day before that, and I could only think of one person to blame.

_Brittany. Brittany. Brittany. _

Just saying the name in my head had my face filling with that same dopy grin I had plastered to my face earlier; it was pathetic.

Pathetically _wonderful_.

I don't know what it is about the blonde, but I feel like I lose myself around her. She makes me feel things that I didn't ever want to feel for another person ever again.

That is something thatI cannot have. I can't go through those feelings all over again, not when I've made so much progress already.

Well, maybe the kind of lifestyle I lead isn't really _progressing _but more like ignoring the issue but it works for me. If it works then why change it?

Or maybe it doesn't and I've just been trying to _make _it work.

Brittany could be different. She could help me.

Or completely break me, just like..

XXXX

My brain was making quick work trying to piece everything together: the weird happiness, Brittany, feelings, Brittany, the past, Brittany.

It was a lot to take in when I had just woken up not forty-five minutes ago, which is why I ended up on the roof. With a warm cup of tea in one hand, a slice of cold pizza wrapped in a napkin and wedged into my bra, my notebook pinched between my teeth and my keyboard under my arm, I climbed the stairs to the top floor.

It's really only supposed to be used for the maintenance workers, but I may or may not have pulled a few strings with the guy and hooked him up with some Sloppy Babies' matchbooks so that I could have free reign.

It was always so calming up on the roof, like everything below: the people, the cars, the work, the cell phone reception, the worries, couldn't find me when I was so high up. Being on the roof was like being on top of the world, and on top of the world, no one could touch me.

I set up my keyboard on the stand I kept hidden away along with my notebook just in case something came to me and, between sipping tea and nibbling on my pizza, I played. I played new songs, old songs, made up songs, that damn song I can't get out of my head, I played everything and anything my cold heart desired. When I played, my head was quiet. My mind stopped trying to piece together everything because who could focus when there was beautiful music to be made?

Though it was quiet, it didn't mean I hadn't found thoughts of Brittany weaseling their ways in. From the unusually upbeat songs that reminded me of the blonde to the ones I'd remember her dancing along with to the radio, it was all Brittany. It kind of defeated the purpose of escaping when she ended up following me anyway, but strangely I wasn't too bothered by it. In fact, I found her _presence_, though purely imagined, comforting.

Brittany has always given off that comforting vibe. It's just the rest of the stuff that has me cringing. Brittany, though, Brittany was something great.

Before I knew it, my tea had gone cold and my pizza was long gone. I had gotten carried away with thoughts of the night before, surprised that I was merely enjoying the memories rather than over-analyzing them. The tunes blended into one as I daydreamed, another thing I don't remember ever doing. When the sun was at its highest point in the sky it meant, unless I wanted to have an ugly weird farmer's tan, it was time to head back inside. Plus it gets hot pretty quickly on the roof and no one has time for that.

Upon heading inside, I caught a glance at the time and was surprised by how long I had been away. I guess two hours goes by fast when there's no means of time-telling besides the sun and I'm not really all that great at doing that either. I was busying myself with tidying up around the house, another thing I never really do since no one but Brittany and _sometimes _Quinn comes over, when I caught the faint sounds of my phone chiming with a text message.

It wasn't really a surprise when the brighten screen revealed a missed call and a couple new texts from the girl that had been occupying my head all morning. Mondays usually meant grabbing lunch and doing whatever Brittany wanted to do or vice versa. Mondays used to be my sleep-in and recover day until Brittany came around. It was a nice change to my routine. I scrolled through her texts about getting brunch and maybe helping her do some shopping and instantly felt my body buzzing with..happiness? Excitement? Anticipation?

I found myself laughing at myself as I exited the screen. Since when do I even-

_New Message: It's almost 3pm, if ur still sleepin..smh –Britt Britt _

I almost snorted that time at reading the response, she knows me all too well. Finding that I should probably call her back now instead of texting, I went through my _recents_ list for the girl's name.

I was a second away from making the call when a not-so-attractive blonde filled the screen, and I'm not talking about Quinn.

Sighing, I lifted the phone to my ear.

"_Sandbags._"

"Yes?"

"_We've got a problem." _

"Sue, it's my day off. Can't this wait until tom-"

"_No, it can't." _Her tone was so clipped and I could just picture the wrinkles deepening, _"Do I need to remind you of the rules? One rule in particular.." _

"What?" I asked, confused as I took a seat at the edge of my un-made bed, "I know the rules, I don't need reminding."

"_Oh? I think you do."_

"What are you getting at, Sue, I don't have time for this. I've got things to do."

"_A little birdy told me that you were spotted in some pretty compromising positions with one Brittany Pierce just last night. Now you know the rules and as much as you try and defy them, I won't let you this time. I'm sick and tired of losing people because you can't control your hormones."_

"Compromising positions?" I sputtered, shaking my head at her ridiculousness, "What does that even mean? We were just dancing, _everyone _was dancing! What does that have to do with-" I found myself breathing heavily down the phone as anger bubbled up inside me when that level sky rocketed even more, "Wait, are you keep tabs on me?"

"_Don't feel flattered, I keep tabs on all my Babysitters." _

"That's crazy!" I argued, shooting up from the bed and began pacing, "You can't control our lives when we're not even fucking working! That's bullshit!"

"_Better be careful with your words, Lopez. You need this job, those bills won't pay for themselves and I _know _there are a lot of them. You think you can keep that nice apartment of yours and all your pretty things working on a taco truck? I don't think so._"

I let out an aggravated sigh as I sat back down, attempting to calm my nerves as Sue continued to talk.

"_She's a nice girl, I can't understand why you've grown a liking to her-"_

"We're just friends."

"_Yeah, and I'm not a trained assassin. The point I'm trying to make here is that you and I both know that this act isn't going to be up for long. Choose anyone, just not her. You know the rules and I've been lenient on the consequences, I'll admit to that. I've allowed you and Q to talk me out of so many problems, but this time will be different. You're messing with my money and my business and if you break the rules, you will be done. I know you care about this place almost as much as I do, but lines must be drawn.I'll fire you and I won't look back, so you better start thinking what you care about more: this little fling or your career." _

I felt my chest tightening at the words, of what she was telling me, and I couldn't help but feel frustrated. I had a good thing going for me working at the bar then an even greater thing when Brittany came and now I've got to choose between good and great? What? Even worse, Sue is here talking to me about Brittany like there's something going on between us when there isn't! I'm so sick of people assuming shit, so sick of people thinking that they know anything when they really don't. It wasn't fair.

I didn't even want to argue back because Sue already seemed pissed enough as it was. Yeah, I'm awesome at pushing her buttons. Gross, that sounds wanky. But I didn't want to press my luck when it came to my job. Working at the bar, it's all I've ever really known. It's my home, where I belong, where I'm seen as the star that I am. It took me such a long time to find a place like that, and now that I have, I couldn't lose it. I couldn't give that up over what? A crush?

I'm trouble and I can't be any good for Brittany. I might as well just stop it all before anything even happens. It'll save her and I'm sure I can recover, I've done it before.

"What do you want me to do?" I sighed, defeated, "We work together, it's kind of hard to put distance between us.."

"_Stop spending time together? I don't know, I'm not a sex-addicted lesbian anymore." _

"Ew, what?" I cringed, "I'm not addicted to sex either."

"_You're smart, you'll figure it out. Oh and Lopez? Let's just keep this little talk between us." _

The line went dead before I could get out another word. I just sat there, phone in my hand settled in my lap, and stared at the wall in front of me blankly.

"Fuck!"I buried my face in my hands, my phone pushing into my cheek awkwardly as I palmed my eyes out of frustration. When will I ever catch a break?

_New Message: Well its officially lunch time now..where u at? – Britt Britt _

I let out another whimper and tossed the phone aside without replying hoping that Brittany would understand my motives one day.

XXXX

Tuesday:

_"While we're slow, bring out a case of glasses. It's on the top shelf of the third stand." _

_ "Top shelf, huh? Because you're a shorty and can't reach?"_

"_No, it's because I told you to." _

I'm an asshole, the biggest asshole in the world. Why couldn't I have thought of another way of distancing myself from the bubbly blonde without making those pink lips contort in the most awful frown I'd ever seen? Why couldn't there be another way? An easier way, a way where I didn't have to hurt the nicest girl in the world...

I griped the bottles in my hands so tightly that I was sure they'd bust. Maybe the glass would've cut my hands up so badly that I wouldn't be able to come to work for weeks, maybe by then Brittany would've gotten over her silly little crush, maybe even find a cute guy or girl instead of me. Maybe I would've gotten over it too.

_I'm not good, I'm not good for her. I'm trouble. _

My mantra as I watched her grumble something out about me being rude and the way she sulked into the storage room like I just told her Santa wasn't real. All she ever did was try to be friendly, but this was my job and I couldn't let her get in the way of that.

Brittany would understand one day, hopefully.

XXXX

Wednesday:

_Hey San! You wanna grab lunch with me? – Britt Britt_

I read the text over and over and over again, my fingers itching to reply with _When and where?_ I couldn't though, Sue was watching and I couldn't have her breathing down Britt's neck too. I hoped that she never would, I hoped that Britt would stay off her radar and she'd never be saddled with such a task like this. Hopefully by what I'm doing, I'd save her from Sue's wrath.

I guess I could be down with the distancing myself if it was beneficial for Brittany. At least I can pretend I'm doing a good thing here.

I read the text again and sighed feeling even worse about myself. Even after being uncharacteristically rude, she still tried reaching out to me. She genuinely cares, Quinn and I both know that, which sucks. It'll just make things even harder.

Brittany deserved an explanation, but I couldn't without the threat of Sue thinking I had disregarded her orders. Or was it the sad look that would etch their way onto Britt's cute face that kept me from saying anything? The less Britt knows, the better, right? Ignorance is bliss, right?

Brittany's smart though, maybe she'll figure it all out so I wouldn't have to tell her?

I stared down at my phone wanting nothing more than to just talk to her, talk to my friend and vent about how conflicted I was. I couldn't do that either, so I hurriedly typed out my response and hid my phone until it was time for work.

Brittany would understand, she had to.

XXXX

"_Can I ask you something?"_

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Please, please don't make me do this. Please, Britt, figure everything out so I don't have to say it. _Please_.

"_We used to hang out all the time and I really miss being your friend_-"

Whatever plea that tumbled out of my mouth, or tried to, had no effect on the blonde. She was determined and she had every right to be. I kept my eyes lowered, afraid that with one look up, I'd be spilling everything and I just couldn't do that yet. Not here.

"_Did I do something wrong?"_

No. You've never done anything wrong, even when you did, you didn't. God, that doesn't make any sense at all. It's me, it's all me, I'm the dumbass that made this whole thing a mess. I'm the one that can't afford to lose their job, I'm the one that's letting Sue control my life. I'm the one that's trying to protect you.

But, wouldn't everything be easier if Britt knew what I was trying to accomplish? She'd see that I didn't _want _to push her away. She'd understand that I loved our friendship and it was because I loved it that I couldn't have it.

There's been a lot of things I've loved but couldn't have. I can just add this to the list.

It would be so much easier if she knew..

Whatever half-assed answer I came up with, Brittany did not like. I was so surprised to see her attempting to keep calm when it was clear that she had enough, it was rare that she ever got mad and it was rare that it was ever directed towards me.

"_What do you mean you _don't know_?"_

The way her name fell from my lips at my response sounded so foreign when it wasn't shortened. It tasted bitter and I hated it even more. She was pressing me for information that I didn't know how to put into words to make her understand and it caused me to get frustrated. I tried getting away from her, but there wasn't anywhere to go, she was blocking the only exit.

"_Well, when you're friends with someone as hot and cold as you then you'll understand why answers are necessary!" _

I wanted to tell her that I knew all that already. I wanted to tell her how fucking hard it is _not _being able to tell her things. I wanted to tell her that I hated hurting her feelings, but I'd hurt them even more if she knew. I wanted to tell how right she is about everything and admit that I'm the biggest dumbass in the world. I wanted to give her something to work with; a hint as to what's been going on, but I just don't know how to do that without fucking everything up. I only know how to deal with issues one way and I know it's not the best.

But being called a coward didn't sit well with me.

I spun on her, our eyes catching for the first time in what felt like forever, and said what came naturally. With a little fire that she ignited in me, it was easier doing what I had to do.

Besides, if she's pissed at me then I don't have to worry about ruining our friendship even more.

We didn't talk for the rest of the night but so many times I had wanted to go over and apologize. It was easier this way though, her having a reason not to talk to me. She had a distraction.

So when Carly appeared in front of me, eyelashes fluttering as she spoke, I welcomed the distraction too.

I didn't have to look over to know that I had just pissed Brittany off even more.

XXXX

It was maybe the second time I was following Carly up the stairs to her loft, her hand crushing mine as she tugged me along. For some reason I thought that it would be a good idea to go along with her, like maybe meaningless sex could rid me of all my guilt and shame, but I knew I wasn't nearly as drunk as I should be.

Besides, when has meaningless sex ever done that?

I wasn't drunk at all actually, so that's probably why I didn't find any of this hot.

The way she had pulled me to her body, mashing mine against hers so that her back pressed against the wall, how her hands tangled into my hair roughly urging me to deepen the kisses, the scent of alcohol on her hot breath as she breathed my name when my nose nudged at her jaw.

I felt constricted in the worse possible way. I hated how she said my name, I hated how her hands felt on my skin, I hated how she tasted, I hated how her nails scratched at the base of my neck.

And when she managed to unlock the door and guide me into the darkness of her living room, I hated _myself._

The sound of her high heels falling to the floor as she propped herself up on the arm of the couch hurt my ears, and by the time she was coaxing me to fall on top of her, I was pushing away. I was distancing myself, something I've always been kind of good at until Brittany.

"What's wrong?" She slurred, struggling to sit up, "Where are you going?"

"I shouldn't be here. _This _is wrong," I muttered and picked up my jacket from the floor and slipped it on. Without another explanation, I left.

It was a little after three when I realized that I was too far away from the bar to walk back and I didn't have any money for a cab. I drew out my phone and called the only person that probably didn't hate me.

"_What the fuck, S..I _just _went to sleep, you better have a-_"

"Can you come pick me up," I asked, surprised at how defeated my tone sounded, "Please?"

Quinn was silent for a few long seconds until, "_You're not in jail, are you?"_

"I wish." I sighed pathetically. I gave her the directions to Carly's and she told me to sit somewhere _well lit_ until she was near. Quinn was always kind of motherly in a way which was kind of cool when I never really had that, someone who cared if I got kidnapped.

Well I did once, before Britt and Quinn, and look how big of a fuck up that was.

By the time she had arrived, I had given myself a headache with all my thinking.

"You look like shit." Quinn joked as she rolled down the window and motioned for me to hop in.

"Thank you, I try." I quipped but there wasn't any type of fire behind it like there usually is between our teasing. That fire had long been put out and now I was just left with the ashes.

I could feel Quinn's eyes flickering over to me as she drove, almost like she was trying to dissect me. I felt vulnerable under her gaze, because unlike Brittany, I knew Quinn would figure everything out. Quinn knows me and sometimes that's a bad thing.

"Are you going to start talking?" She asked, eyes steady on the road, "Because I didn't roll out of my comfortable, warm bed for silence.."

I leaned my head on the window, thankful for the coolness of the glass relaxing my warm skin, as I went to lick my lips but cringed at the taste of Carly's lip gloss. I trusted Quinn not to say anything, we've always had that unspoken agreement, but I had no idea how to sum everything up. Instead, I just blurted what came to mind first, "I'm an idiot."

"No shit," She snorted out in response and glanced at me with her lips pressed in a smirk, "Tell me something I don't know."

"I don't know where to begin," I sighed helplessly, "I've fucked up everything."

"I've sort of gathered that much, but why? What happened, S?"

I tried to keep my composure long enough to at least my street, but the way Quinn's voice sounded so genuine had me losing it. I found my throat tightening and the more I tried swallowing back the growing lump, the harder it was to breathe.

"Santana," She whispered softly, What's going on?"

It was like a dam breaking, but instead of tears free-falling from my tired eyes, it was the truth. Well, somewhat the true. I found myself revealing everything about my conversation with Sue and what she asked of me. I owed Sue, she was the one that found me and gave me the opportunity to get my life together. I had to repay her and I hadn't done that yet, losing my job at Sloppy Babies would ruin that. I went on and on and on about my loyalty to her before things slowly turned into Brittany.

Brittany this, Brittany that, must protect Brittany, can't do this because Brittany..

"I just hate it all, Quinn, I hate being so stuck like this." I grumbled pitifully, "I hate _hurting _her."

"And why's that?" Quinn asked in an angry huff, "Why do you care so much about the girl yet you don't even _try _to show it to her? You went a week practically drowning in alcohol and showed up to work every night hungover. You don't think that didn't hurt her? You don't think she was worried? We were both worried, Santana. You always leaving with a different girl doing only God knows what. You don't think that hurt her too? You give her a little hope and then you take it all back, Santana. You think this is all new? It's not, you've _been _hurting her."

It was like a slap in the face because, God, I sound horrible when she puts it like that. I would be hurt if I were Brittany too! This past week was intentional, but the times Quinn was talking about? I didn't even realize what I was doing effected Britt so much. I never noticed.

I felt guilty.

"I-I didn't kn-"

"You know, she was so upset seeing you talk to Carly earlier." Quinn added causing me to purse my lips; I didn't want to talk about this anymore. I didn't want even more proof of how I've unintentionally hurt my friend more than I had planned. Quinn didn't stop though, she went on about Brittany and how jealous she had gotten. Usually I would've found the jealousy flattering, super hot even, but this time it just made me feel sick, "I get why you keep going back to her though, but don't you think you've had enough time already?"

My head swiveled to face her as I suddenly felt defensive, "What are you talking about?"

"Carly, I know you're only seeing her multiple times because she looks like-"

"Don't Quinn, just don't."

"Santana, it's been almost two years already." She sighed tiredly, "She isn't coming back."

"Shut the fuck up, Fabray!" I snapped and started tugging at my seatbelt. She had the audacity to talk about _her_ like it was okay. She had no right bringing her up, she had no right to accuse me of some bullshit like that! I felt the walls of the car closing in and I just had to get out, "Pull over, I'll just walk."

"Yeah, right." She scoffed through a bitter laugh, "You're going to have to stop running away from your problems eventually, I know you're getting tired."

"You don't know anything."

"Yes I do, remember who was there for you when no one else was. You can try and block me out, but I know you. You've already let me in once, you can't kick me out again."

I didn't say anything, just crossed my arms over myself and tried pressing myself against the door as far away as I could get from all Quinn's honesty. It was overwhelming and I couldn't handle. Quinn must've caught on because she went back to the subject of Sue and her rules.

"Sue can go fuck herself." She quipped as she pulled up to the curb and turned to me, "She can't control your social life because of some rules that only pertain to you at _work_. She can't dictate your life, Santana, and you can't let her. Who you decide to associate with has nothing to do with her or your time at the bar. Understand?"

"Y-yeah, but-"

"Brittany could very well be the best thing that could've happened to you, you want to give that up because of Sue? You can bartender _anywhere, _Santana, and though I don't think that's what you're meant to do for the rest of your life, you could do it. You don't need Sue, she needs _you_."

The tension in my shoulders seemed to ease as Quinn went on and I found myself slumping further in the leather chair. Of course, she was right about everything. Sue's always been a little extreme and attempting to put limits on an employee's life has got to break some type of laws. I guess I could understand why she'd take such measures; I haven't really been a model employee in the past.

It was then that I realized that I wasn't the only one trying to protect Brittany, Sue was too. She liked Britt, or liked the fact that she could potentially make the place a shit ton of money, and I was a threat to that. She was trying to protect Britt from me while I was trying to protect Britt from her!

"Holy sweet hell.." I gasped at the realization as I straightened up in my seat and looked to Quinn who had still been going on with her speech.

"What?" She asked as she settled away from me, eyeing my features warily.

I couldn't really answer just yet, my brain was working double time to process through everything. Quinn continued waiting for an answer but I came up with nothing. It wasn't until she called my name, pulling me back to reality, that I looked back at her.

"Are you going to be okay?" She asked worriedly.

I just nodded then shrugged, "How do I fix this, Q?"

"Hell if I know," She chuckled, "You got yourself in this mess, you can get yourself out. I know you can."

"Yeah," I nodded again, "You're right."

I thanked her for the ride home and we parted ways. I found that once I got situated in bed, after a steaming hot shower to wash off the feel of Carly, I couldn't for the life of me fall asleep. I tossed and turned, rearranged pillows, listened to music, watched a little tv, but I just couldn't pass out. I was tired, that's for sure, but my thoughts were so damn loud that it kept me up.

I needed to fix things with Brittany. Quinn was right, I couldn't let Sue control me especially when it came down to Brittany. Maybe she _is _the best thing that could happen to me, maybe she's not, but for now she's my friend. I needed her in my life. I needed my friend back.

And at that, sleep finally found me.

XXXX

It didn't find me for long though; my eyes shot open around 8am like I hadn't _just _fallen asleep a couple hours ago. I reached for my phone on the nightstand: no missed calls, no new texts. I wasn't surprised, who the hell is even up at this time? It's probably illegal.

I found myself scrolling through my text messages then landing on Britt's name out of habit. There weren't that many, we mostly text about meeting up or saying where we are, but as I continued scrolling up I happened to stop on her very first text:

_I asked Quinn for ur number. I hope u dont mind – Britt Britt _

_That's fine – San_

_I just got kinda worried when you didnt call – Britt Britt_

_You dont have to worry. Im a big girl lol – San_

_Actually, ur kinda tiny ( ; - Britt Britt_

_Ha ha very funny – San _

I kept scrolling through the conversation, smiling at how dorky we _both _were. I smiled even wider when I realized how oblivious I've been. She knew me for what? About a week? And she was already worrying her pretty head about my wellbeing. When I first met her, I could already tell she was too nice for her own good, but as I got to know her I couldn't imagine her being any other way. She's that kind of person that would give you the first sip of her drink and the last bite of her favorite dessert.

It made me feel so, I don't know, special knowing that I had a friend like Brittany. I wasn't used to having someone so thoughtful and caring. Sure, I had Quinn but she didn't any of those things half as good as Britt. You could definitely tell she was new to the city because she still had that goodness in her. People here, they get mean, but not Britt. Well, not until someone really fucks her up like what happened to me.

I didn't want to be the reason why Brittany turned cold.

I had to come up with something to show her that I was sorry for being a class A bitch for the past few days, but the thought of apologizing had me going into a mini panic attack. Anything that dealt with too many feelings and emotions like that had me reeling back to the times I've tried so hard to forget about.

There had to be another way.

As I reread our old texts, I noted the dates and ideas started coming.

XXXX

By 9:30am, I was hitting the streets, checking into little shops and boutiques for something that I didn't know I was looking for yet. With a hot coffee in my hand, I mostly wandered around hoping that inspiration would strike me. I wanted to get Britt something for her Sloppy Babies anniversary, but I wasn't really sure what would be appropriate. A card? That's boring. Food? That's normal. Flowers? Maybe. Jewelry? Too intimate. Clothes-

My eyes landed on the greatest thing ever. It was perfect: the colors, the design, the cat. It was _so _Brittany and I just had to have it.

As I folded it up neatly and placed it in a box, my quickly scribbled out note resting on top, I hoped and prayed that I could at least be _half _forgiven. I rummaged for a permanent marker and addressed the package to one Brittany Pierce before slipping into a sweater and heading out to said blonde's home.

XXXX

I hadn't really thought about how I was supposed to get the package to Britt when I got there, the only way in is if I buzzed her and I really didn't want to do that. The mailboxes were on the other side of the door, so that was out too. I held the package in my hands and stared at the list of room numbers trying to decide if I should just back out now. I wasn't ready to talk to her yet, I hadn't gotten my thoughts straight so going into that unprepared would probably turn out messy.

Luckily, a familiar big-lipped doofus was coming down the stairs and heading to the wall of mailboxes. I quickly made my way to the small glass window and started rapping my knuckles against it until he turned. He looked in the direction of the sound and waved.

That's all, just waved. He didn't come closer to the window, didn't open the door, just waved.

"This dude is a fucking idiot.." I sighed, though keeping a stupidly sweet smile on my face, as I motioned for the door. He continued to stare, hand midway in the air, and tilted his head to the side for the universal sign of being confused as hell. I fought hard from rolling my eyes and mouthed, "Open the door."

Finally, all the dots seemed to connect and he found his way to the door.

"Sorry, Brittany's still asleep, she probably didn't hear the buzzing." He said as he poked his head in the crack of the door. Again, he didn't open it wider for me to come in or even _invite _me in. It actually looked like he was about to close the door on me after saying his piece. I found myself wondering how the hell he managed to pull a girl like Brittany when he was clearly a dumbass. It was like you had to spell everything out for the guy with damn ABC blocks or something!

"Uh yeah, that's alright. Let her sleep. Can you give her this though?" I asked as politely as I could despite wanting to kick the door closed on his head. He looked down at the package in my hands then back up at me with wide eyes.

"It's not her birthday, is it?" He gasped then looked down the street both ways, "I wonder if I have enough time before she wakes up to-"

I prayed for the strength to _not _punch him in the throat at his ramblings. Britt said they dated for almost eight months, talked for three, so why the hell did this guy not know her birthday? Knowing someone's birthday is like a must when becoming friends! I don't know the exact date because we never really talked about it, but at least _I_ know she's a winter baby!

She said that's why she thinks she's so pale, being born around all that snow must've affected her.

"It's not her birthday," I found myself grumbling, catching Sam's attention.

"Oh..well that's good."

"Look, can you just give her this?" I sighed and thrust the box in his clumsy hands, "Don't worry about dropping it, there's nothing in there that you could possible break."

He stared down at the package warily and nodded, "Uhm, okay."

"Great, see you around Trouts." I called over my shoulder and made my way home.

XXXX

By the time the deed had been done, I crashed down on my bed _hard_. With all this thinking and planning and smacking myself in the head, I had forgotten just how little sleep I'd gotten the night before. I was exhausted in more ways than one and when I saw the clock on my nightstand read _3:45pm _I knew there was no chance in hell of working tonight.

It was probably a good idea for Britt too, to have a break from me.

With being that it was on such short notice, I called up the only other person besides Quinn and Britt that I somewhat trusted working my bar: Marley. Sure, she looked like she was about twelve but she's one of the better waitresses and she doesn't drink, which is weird since she's surrounded by it, so I won't have to worry about my liquor going missing. Plus, she's very good with instructions so I didn't really have to worry about her giving Brittany a hard time either. _I'm _the only one allowed to do that right now and I'd have no problem with cutting someone down that thought _they _were allowed to.

I went for my phone to call Marley then Sue when I noticed that I had a new text that I must've missed after getting in.

_I got your package. I love it, thanks! – Britt Britt_

I rested my head back on the pillows, content with my decision. She _loved _my gift. I felt that familiar happiness start to trickle through me, but I didn't want to jump the gun thinking that what I did solved anything. Besides, I always felt awkward accepting thanks. It's always been that way for me though, I guess because my family was never too affectionate growing up. When you did a nice thing, you just accepted it. You were just supposed to _know _that they were thankful and _know _that you appreciated their thanks. It was an unspoken thing and it has stuck with me since then.

_I owed you a shirt. – San _

I waited for a reply but after five minutes, I knew there wasn't going to be one. It was okay though, I was happy with the first text anyway. After getting myself together, I made the call to Marley followed by the call to Sue.

Once I had squared everything away, I closed the blinds, shut my bedroom door on the world and crawled under the covers in attempt to catch up on my sleep.

XXXX

I didn't know what time it was when my phone start vibrating loudly against the metal of my nightstand, but it had to be late. I blindly reached out for it, wanting nothing more than to stop the incessant buzzing.

"Who the hell is it?" I growled without bothering to open my eyes, afraid to be blinded by the light of the screen.

_"Yeah, you don't sound sick at all." _

"Quinn?"

_"Yeah, now please tell me why in the hell you decided to call out?"_ She sighed. I could faintly hear the band music in the background so she must be on intermission, _"From what I remember last night, it sounded like you were going to try and fix things."_

"I just wanted to take a personal day, Q, what's the big deal?"

_"Nothing, just-I'm worried that you'll get stuck in all this running that you'll never come back." _

"What are you talking about? I'll be back tomorrow."

_"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it." _

I just sighed and rolled over to bury my head further in the pillows, "I'm not prepared, Q, I want to be prepared when I explain myself to her."

_"Santana, you-"_

"I love you, Quinn, and I appreciate you trying to keep me on track but you're going to have to let me do this my own way. I may not know what I'm doing yet, but I'll figure it out. I'm not going to let Sue ruin my friendship with her. I'll fix it, I'll fix everything."

She didn't answer right away, from the sound of it, she sounded a little shocked at how determined I was_, "Tomorrow is her performance, it's at two. Be there, alright?"_

"Yeah, I got it." I nodded. We said our goodbyes and once again I was left in the dark, swimming in thoughts.

Tomorrow, I can fix everything tomorrow.

XXXX

That night I actually dreamed. I dreamt of dancing to music so familiar with a tall, blonde that was even more familiar. We didn't say a word to each other, just smiled and stared, as we moved smoothly along to the music in circles. I listened closely and realized the tune was the same as the one that's forever stuck in my head. It followed me everywhere, it wasn't surprising that it showed up in my dreams too.

I knew I was being coaxed out of it all though. Outside sensations were clashing with those of my dream world and I battled to stay submerged. At least there Brittany was still smiling at me like I was the greatest thing. It was quickly fleeing though, the image of her starting to blur and the music getting fuzzier and fuzzier. I struggled to grab on to her but all I got was air. I called for her to stay, but it was already too late.

I was awake.

"God, do I regret giving you a spare." I grumbled and tried to cover my head with a pillow at Quinn's laughter.

"You weren't returning my phone calls, I had to make sure you didn't jump out the window or anything."

I just groaned in response.

I felt the bed dip next to me as I heard a paper bag ruffle, "At least I brought you breakfast and look! You're still in bed so that'll make it breakfast _in _bed, you're welcome."

I peeked up at her, her stupid charming grin practically lighting up the room as she wiggled a to-go cup in her hand, "Also, I have coffee. Santana loves coffee, doesn't she?"

"She does.." I sighed and tried untangling from the blankets to get to it but she kept pulling it away, "Come on, gimmie.."

"I will once you get out of bed, we're supposed to be at the lounge in two hours."

"How's it breakfast in bed if I'm not _in _bed anymore?" I grumbled as I sat up and crossed my arms.

"Fine, here." She replied and handed over the cup, "Just please don't be late, I'm not trying to get blood on my new pumps. She lifted her right leg and pointed out her toe, "Check it, on sale and everything!"

"That's great, Q." I mumbled as I dug through the paper bag, smiling that she had picked up all my favorites.

"It is," She smirked and stood up; leaning in to ruffle my hair as I took a bite of the ham and cheese croissant, "Now don't make me kill you with them. Two o'clock, Santana, I'm serious."

She pointed her index finger at me as she left the room with narrowed eyes. I just laughed and shook my head.

XXXX

Consequently enough, things didn't really go as well as I planned by the time I was meant to be at Sloppy Babies.

After Quinn left and I had finished up my breakfast, I was determined to come up with a plan. Like I told Quinn the night before, I wanted to have my explanation in order before I said anything to Brittany. I hadn't thought through everything that'll happen when Sue finds out that I'm not going to distance myself from my friend just because she _thinks _I'll break the stupid rules.

The longer I thought about everything, the harder it got for me to keep calm. I felt shaky and nervous and when I checked the time, those feelings only intensified. On top of still being unable to have the right words for Britt, Quinn would be pretty pissed that I was running late when she was adamant about me being on time.

I scrambled out of my apartment and right into a downpour.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I shouted at the sky before running to my car, struggling to get the door open before the rain ruined my hair even further. Thankfully I kept a jacket in my backseat for the walk from the car to the lounge for later.

By the time I parked, Quinn had already called twice. I reached to the backseat for the jacket as my phone started buzzing for the third time.

"I'm almost there, Quinn, so spare me." I answered without even giving her the chance to scold me.

"_I told you to _not_ to be late and what did you do?" _

"I'm late, I know, I can tell time. I got carried away with stuff, my bad.." I grumbled as I tried to wiggle into the jacket while keeping my ear pressed to the phone, "It's just a dance, we both know Britt's going to crush it. We don't even need to wat-"

"_This is important!" _

"Jesus, Quinn, what the fuck?" I snapped at her raised tone, "I said I'm almost there, why are you bitching at me."

"_Because that seems to be the only way people can talk to you so that you'll listen."_

"Oh? What the hell does that supposed to mean?"

"_It means,"_ She said lowly before raising her voice again, _"Get your head out of your ass!"_

"You know what? Fuck this shit, I don't need to be there!"

"_Yes you d-" _

I ended the call before she could finish her sentence, I was way too passed pissed off to care what she had to say. I sat there for a couple minutes trying to even out my breathing before pulling the hood over my head and getting out of the car. Quinn was right, this is important and if I was going to be making changes, I couldn't start out with missing something so important to Britt.

After getting the initial scolding out of the way, Quinn and I sat down next to each other to watch the performance. I felt like it had been forever since I'd seen the blonde that was dancing on stage, I didn't realize how much I had missed watching her move. She always had this way about her, she made simple acts like walking look like the smoothest dance move, and I missed seeing that. It made it easier to watch when I noticed she wasn't looking back at us. She avoided our eyes, or _mine_, as she danced fluidly. There was no doubt in my mind that she would've been anything but perfect so the thought of Sue wanting Quinn and I to review her before taking it to Sue was ridiculous.

Brittany moved with such surety, such elegance and skill; she was hypnotizing. I couldn't wait till it was all over so that I could shower her with compliments and tell her how amazing she was, but then I remembered that I'm kind of an asshole and doing any of that after what I've _been _doing would seem pretty confusing. She already told me I was _hot and cold_, know need in validating that any further. So I just watched and soaked in the: roll of her hips, the tension in her muscles, the way her hair swirled around her as she spun, the flicker of her long fingers, the way she seemed to glow in the stage lights, even the sweat glistening off her chest causing her to sparkle. Everything seemed to cancel out as I watched her dance so beautifully.

Before I knew it, the music had stopped and Brittany was staring at me while Quinn talked. I knew I was unreadable because even _I_ didn't know how I was feeling. I just knew that something in me changed and now that I was looking at her, I couldn't imagine losing her.

I could hear Quinn complimenting Brittany and how proud Sue will be when we relay the news, but my head was elsewhere. The need to talk to the blonde was rapidly increasing the longer I thought about her but when I registered that she was walking over to me, talking to me, I couldn't form a long enough sentence.

"Sure, Britt." Was all that came out at her telling me that she was going to get changed. I watched as she walked off, her shoulders slumping in defeat despite having just killed that performance. I groaned at my stubbornness and quickly went to the bar to start prepping, maybe with my body moving I could process through everything a little better before she'd come back.

XXXX

I don't know what the hell went on in that bathroom, but when Brittany came back, she came with a vengeance! She was angry as hell, and though it was excruciatingly sexy, I was a little afraid.

As soon as she said, "We need to talk." I was completely shutting down. I wasn't ready, I hadn't gotten the words together. I needed some type of distraction or a way to stall, but nothing came to mind. I focused my attention on the crate I was trying to take down, cursing my stupid height, and hoped that she'd take the hint and hold off on the talk. She didn't though, she pressed and pressed for information and the more she did, the more I felt trapped. I _was _trapped, literally, and I didn't like it.

"Answer me, damnit!"

I finally reached my breaking point and I turned on her so fast that I didn't even check to make sure the crate was secure before I did. I braced myself for the inevitable blow to the head; serves me right since I wasn't really using it lately.

But it never came.

I slowly opened my eyes thinking that the hit was probably so fast and now I'm dead and I'm having some sort of an out of body experience, but I wasn't. Brittany somehow managed to catch the crate and was now pressing into me in the greatest of ways. Despite almost dying, I couldn't help the wanky thoughts flooding in. Her eyes were looking to me so frantically like I could just break in a matter of seconds.

This girl. This_ fucking_ girl! How could anyone be so Goddamn perfect?

"Santana, are you-"

I knew the questions before she asked it, but I'm sure I couldn't produce words. I did the next greatest thing that I could think of that could convey my answer.

So with the girl in front of me still holding a heavy ass crate that almost killed me, our bodies molding to one another as I panted, I grabbed hold of her flushing cheeks, and kissed her.

* * *

A/N Yes, Santana is difficult as fuck and could possibly need a little smacking around LOL. I'm sure there are tons of errors, but I wanted to get this out before work! How'd you like the POV switch? We'll go back to Brittany's next chapter where it'll pick up from the kiss. Let me know!


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